


Whiskey, Fire, and All That Ever Was

by price_of_sal



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Play, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut, Someone gets speared in the face, The Female Gaze, The female gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/price_of_sal/pseuds/price_of_sal
Summary: When an increasingly bold ghost shows up at her island schoolhouse, Dani phones the local exterminator. The next 48 hours are a bit more than she bargained for.Bly Manor AU ala Ghostbusters meets Buffy, with a dash of hurt/comfort smutfest. It's been a weird month, y'all.Part 1 of 2 (see end notes)Self care checkpoint: heavy discussions of death, graphic depictions of injury/gore
Relationships: Damie - Haunting of Bly Manor, Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 20
Kudos: 39





	1. Part 1

When Dani sees the ghost a third time, it’s the final straw. She’s padding down stairs, steps silent in sock feet. Tea is the only thing that seems to keep the chill of Bly Manor at bay on nights like these. She’s busy imagining the penetrating warmth of the coming cup when a figure hovering near the kitchen stops her dead.

A woman, chin down, arms slack, standing stock still. As if waiting for something. Dani freezes, afraid even to breathe in the ringing quiet. Water drips from its oily black hair, draped like a curtain over a shadowed face. There is no mistaking the thing for a wandering person caught in the rain: map lines of various stages of rot course over its skin, fingernails missing or bent back from hanging hands. Dani’s seen it before, hovering beside the lake, a gauze impression in the night. This time it’s as solid as the banister Dani clutches with a shaking hand.

She’ll be seen if the ghost raises its head; she’ll be heard if she makes a sound. It takes a sheer force of will for Dani to take the first step backward. One silent footfall after another, each movement an agony of suspense. It takes an age to reach her bedroom. She can barely tare her eyes from the space behind her to reach for the handle. One final silent step, and she eases the door closed with a soft click.

A single panel of wood between her and whatever waits below isn’t enough. Dani runs to the closet and shuts herself inside. A giant mirror looms among the old boxes, bearing down on her like a great eye. She cries herself to sleep on the hard floor, flinching at the bumps and groans of an old house.

\--

“I informed you about the particularities of this position,” Administrator Wingrave says over the phone in the morning. He’s as curt and unhelpful as ever. “Don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.” The line cuts out with an abrupt click.

Dani stares at the receiver, knuckles white with rage. If a ghost on the school grounds doesn’t count as an emergency, what exactly does? Her decision to move to a wind-battered island in the North Sea feels more than ever like a mistake: out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“There there,” Owen says, drying dishes. “It not your fault. Henry isn’t the best in these situations.”

Dani lets out a breath and hangs up the phone. “I don’t know if _I’m_ the best in these situations.” 

“Of course not,” Owen says, taking in her wrinkled shirt and mussed hair. “You’ve got to be here at night, poor thing. Have you consulted the phone book?”

Dani blinks. “The phone book?”

Owen smiles, setting out plates for breakfast. “Try looking under ‘E’.”

\--

When class breaks for lunch, Dani thumps open the mildewed phone book she finds above the refrigerator. She traces service listings under ‘E’ with a finger: excavators, exterior lighting, and finally:

EXTERMINATORS 

Farmland pest, pg. 384

Home and garden, pg. 388

Undead/apparitional, pg. 400

Page 400 is plastered with garish ads that recall used car banners. Bold squares festooned with cartoon ghosts advertise in all caps: ‘BOSTON AND JACK SPECTRE SERVICE, GUARANTEED 99.8% REMOVAL” and “GOT GHOSTS? CALL GERTY!” Below the paid blocks is a thin listing:

Grose’s Ghoul-Be-Gone

Friendly professionals specializing in historical hauntings, physical manifestations, and complex removal. We work with all budgets.

Something about the lack of exclamations speaks to Dani. She dials the operator. “Off island call,” she says, and gives the number.

“Oh, hello there Ms. Clayton. I’ll connect you,” the friendly voice replies. Dani hears a click.

“Grose’s, how may I help ya?”

“Um, hi. I’ve got a problem.”

“Apparition or physical?” The woman’s accent is smooth, different. Somewhere in the UK Dani hasn’t been yet.

“What?”

The voice clears her throat, patient. “Are we dealing with ghosts or zombies…miss...?”

“Clayton. Dani Clayton.” She bites her lip. “I’m…uh, not sure what it is. The kids call her the Lady of the Lake.”

“Can you describe this Lady then?”

Dani lowers her voice, mindful of squealing children in the next room. “It comes at night. The kids…they say they’ve heard of it from their parents. Some old island folk tale. I don’t think they’ve seen it, though. I thought it was just a scary bedtime story…” _Before it scared the piss out of me,_ Dani thinks.

“Mm. So it’s got history then.” Dani hears the scratch of a pen on paper.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been here long.”

“What does it do? Scream in the night? Call out to anyone? Open doors?”

“It must be able to open doors.” Dani swallows. “I saw it in the house last night.”

The person’s voice grows more serious. “Physical form you say. And it’s come in the building? I think we’d better schedule for as soon as possible. Where are you located?”

“Isle of Bly, right outside the township.”

“Aye. Ferry comes and goes twice daily, is that right Ms. Clayton?”

She’s not sure how, but the voice on the other end has already calmed her. And peaked her intrigue. “Call me Dani.”

The voice has a smile to it. “Dani, then. I’m Jamie, one of the Scrubbers. Mrs. Grose has just had a look at my notes and said she’ll be on the ferry first thing in the morning.” Her voice firms again. “Can’t say for sure before the inspection, but I need to tell you that hauntings of this type have the potential to be hazardous. Take care. We advise you to stay in the house and lock all doors until we can assess the grounds.”

“Trust me,” Dani says, exhaustion hanging heavy on her shoulders, “I’ve got no interest in going outside right now.”

“Chin up,” the voice says brightly. “We’ll have it sorted for you as soon as we can.

Dani smiles. “Thanks, Jamie.”

\--

Owen slides over a cup of tea. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”

Dani’s heart warms. She’s grown fond of the chef, with his groan-inducing puns and incredible meals. He’s gentle with the children and handsome, sporting a mustache impressive enough for a daguerreotype portrait. He would have been the ultimate catch in another life. Owen seems to sense this caveat, and never so much as glances at Dani in a suggestive way. She isn’t used to it; a man treating her as something other than a possession to be won by ignoring her every resistance. The platonic simplicity is precious. She takes the tea and waves him off. “No, no. You’ve got to get home to your mom. Besides,” she sighs. “I can handle one more night.”

“Are you sure?” He glances outside at the darkening sky.

“Yeah.” She looks down at her cup, thumbing a chip in the handle. “Thanks for believing me.”

Owen leans over and pats her arm. “There is nothing to doubt. Just because I can’t see her doesn’t mean she’s not out there. You hear tales of this sort of thing all the time in the isles. You did the right thing by calling the professionals.”

Dani smiles her gratitude. She bids Owen farewell as he gathers his coat and leaves for the night.

She checks every window and door in the house twice. Despite its age, the manor is outfitted with modern locks and solid windows. She should by all rights, feel safe.

Still she lies awake, listening. Deep into the night, a distant rattling comes from downstairs. Something pulls on the front door, once, twice. There is a pause, and then a _thump_ of a heavy palm slamming against the wood. Dani shudders. The sound doesn’t come again.

\--

A soft knock sounds at 8am on the dot. Dani smooths her wrinkled sweater flat and hooks a stray hair behind her ear; another night of fitful rest leaves her ragged and edgy. She braces herself for what she assumes will be a gang of men in coveralls with loud voices and paranormal hoovers. Dani swings open the door and blinks in the morning light. Two stunning women wait in the entryway: the elder tall and lean, shave-headed in the garb of an elegant prosecutor, the other, Dani’s peer in ripped jeans and a cropped jacket, perfect braids and high cheekbones. A toothpick juts out from her mouth; she appraises Dani with a lifted brow from behind dark glasses, hip cocked to support the weight of an enormous duffel bag.

“Ms. Clayton?” The older woman says, voice smooth as silk. “I am Hannah Grose. This is my lead Inspector, Rebecca Jessel.”

Rebecca tilts her head, looking at the house. “This a school?”

Dani somehow finds her voice. “Bly Manor. Yeah, it’s the schoolhouse here on the island.”

Hannah smiles, broad and warm. “An American! You’ve come to an unlikely place, Ms. Clayton.”

“Dani,” she says. Hannah’s perfect manicure catches her eye as they shake hands. A large gold crucifix swings from her delicate neck, glinting in the diffuse sunlight.

“Well, Dani, let us begin. Rebecca will be inspecting the grounds, and you and I will have to go over some things. Ghoul Be Gone is a top-to-bottom service, we leave no stone unturned.”

“I…I’m not familiar with the process.”

Hannah smiles again. Rebecca looks bored. “All will be explained. Shall we get started?”

Dani sighs. She’s tired, small, and underdressed. “What do you need?”

“Please show us where you’ve seen the apparition.”

Dani leads them to the lake, deceivingly peaceful in the swirling morning mist. She points to the shore farthest from the house. “I saw it there, the first time. About two weeks ago.”

Rebecca throws down the duffel with a thud in the grass, kneels and rummages loudly through the contents. Hannah, unperturbed by the racket, pulls out paper and pen. “And what were you doing at the time?”

Dani swallows. “Going for a walk.” Rebecca pulls out a long spike with some sort of voltage meter attached to the end and marches over to where Dani pointed.

“Describe it to me,” Hannah says. “Please be as detailed as you can.”

Dani takes a shaky breath. “She’s…it’s…white. Tall. Black hair.”

“Form of a woman?”

“Yes, I think so. It wears some kind of dress, or what used to be a dress.”

Hannah’s brows perk. “You say its clothes are disheveled?”

“Well…” Dani shifts uncomfortably. “Its sort of…rotting?”

“Does the being wear shoes of any kind?”

Dani can’t hide the look of disgust. “No.”

“You’ve been close enough to see?”

“It leaves footprints. In the house. Muddy tracks.” She feels the panic rising at the memory of hastily sweeping away the mess, exhaustion and desperation peaking.

“My Scrubber mentioned you had a home invasion.”

“Night before last. It was in the front room.”

“What was it doing?”

Dani shivers. She should have worn a thicker jacket. “Just standing there.”

“Did it see you?”

“No I…I don’t think so…”

“And no one else has seen this ghoul?”

Dani swallows. “I guess someone must have at some point. The kids talk about it, and Mr. Wingrave – ”

“Do you think she comes from the lake?”

Dani looks at the water, chest tight. “What do you mean?”

The probe emits a bizarre squeal. Rebecca turns from the water’s edge. “Oh, it’s definitely in the lake. What you think, Hannah? Witch?”

Hannah frowns. “Unlikely, no history here.”

“Scornmaiden?”

“God help us. We’ll need more equipment.”

“Taylor can bring it on the evening shuttle.”

“Excuse me – ” Dani begins.

“You think?” Rebecca goes on, flicking mud from the device as she walks over to them. “Scornmaiden? Haven’t had one since that August one in Leeds. What a right mess that was.”

Hannah appraises the lake. “Scornmaiden, she-devil, water wench. Doesn’t matter. We’ll still need more equipment. If we – ”

“Excuse me!” Dani shouts. Both women flinch. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

Rebecca chuckles and elbows Hannah. “Newbie, this one.”

Hannah quiets her with a look. “My apologies, Dani. We get overexcited about the technical aspects. Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

\--

Dani makes tea, more of an effort to calm her nerves than out of politeness. Her hands are shaking so badly she dumps four cubes of sugar into the kettle. Hannah winces at her sip and sits across from Dani in the overstuffed chairs of the dayroom.

“I understand this may be your first contact with the paranormal.” Dani nods and takes a drink. God, it’s too sweet even for her. “Let me explain some of the basics to you, so that you have a better understanding of what’s happening. There are many sorts of apparitions, what people outside the industry might refer to as spirits.” Hannah gestures. “There’s a spectrum, on one side, you have your friendly resident ghost, who doesn’t so much as frighten a mouse. As you can imagine, our services aren’t contacted for most of the things in the lower categories. What we deal with are on the middle or upper spectrum. Phantoms that won’t lie still, that take delight in disrupting business, right on up to the PMs.”

“PM’s?” Dani lets herself be led through the scripted conversation; Hannah’s professional detachment is a comfort.

“Physical manifestations. These are the most problematic.” Hannah’s delicate fingers hold the teacup with more grace than Dani thinks she’s ever possessed in her entire life. “Angry spirits feed on the aura of those around them. If enough grief or trauma enters an area, they may collect enough energy to cross the veil and manipulate our world.”

Dani shifts in her chair. “Can loss do that?”

“What sort of loss?”

“The teacher before me. She…drowned.”

Hannah purses her lips and nods. “Sure, something like that could precipitate a haunting like this one.”

“So what do you…do?”

“How do we remove it?” Hannah smiles. “It’s complex. Not so simple as chasing a rat from the pantry. We need to investigate why the apparition is here, why it’s come round this particular moment, and what it’s motivation is. Then we can devise how best to convince it to leave. That’s the art in what we do.”

“What do you need from me?”

“I’d like to know everything you know about this property. Are there any documents in the house? Records, family albums, blueprints?”

Dani sighs. “Actually, I know quite a bit. It was…part of the application process.” Hannah leans forward, intrigued. “Bly doesn’t get many teachers. There’s only ten primary students on the whole island.”

“Certainly, but the coast is breathtaking, the residence beautiful. And it must be a luxury to have such a small, intimate class.” She nods. “So why can’t they retain any instructors?”

Dani sighs. “They keep dying.”

\--

Hannah thumbs through the album, scribbling down notes. “Fascinating. Four teachers dead in ten years? Absolutely remarkable.” Dani wonders if it would be so intriguing if their roles were reversed. “What do you know about them? Anything not mentioned here?”

“Mr. Wingrave – that’s the administrator here – he told me the isolation of the island gets to people. When I applied, he asked me a lot of questions about how comfortable I was with solitude, and if I was clumsy.”

Hannah nods, having just flipped to the third clipping:

_Bly Instructor falls to death from sea cliff_

“Did he ask you anything else that was unusual?”

“Yeah…um, he asked me if I’d ever worked in healthcare or in a hospice. Thought that was kind of weird.” Hannah snaps the album closed.

“May I take this with me? It will be returned, of course.”

“Keep whatever you need.” Dani would be perfectly happy to never set eyes on the album again. She walks Hannah to the door, where Rebecca waits beside the enormous bag. Tall clouds loom near the coast. The wind whips by in a sudden gust, rippling the still water of the lake.

“We must catch the return ferry. We’ve another inspection today, hobgoblin in Ipswich.” Hannah puts a hand out to Dani, who wonders how someone so breathtaking got into the goblin-busting business. “Ms. Clayton, Dani…I must urge you to exercise extreme caution. This is not a routine haunting. One of my associates will be by on the evening ferry with some equipment that will help keep you safe while we sort this out.” She drops her chin for gravity. “But I must stress that no amount of preparation is infallible. Your best asset is a keen eye and not to take any unnecessary risks.”

Dani agrees to stay in, wishing fervently that the two women were leaving behind more than dire warnings. She wanders into the dayroom after they’ve gone, listening to the creaks and moans of the wind. The last article of the album flashes in her mind – a black and white image of the still waters of the lake. _Bly Instructor Found Drowned_. Dani wonders if she sat in this very chair, listening to the same sounds. What went through her mind? Was she lonely, afraid? What drove her to the lake’s edge, out into the water?

None of the articles say why they died, but Dani knows. She knows it every time she walks past the lake, every time she looks out to the sea cliffs or passes by a low rafter in the cellar. She knows it when the house is empty and the walls press in. Gravity is greater here, the air thinner. Someone lived here once whose will permeates every mote of dust that settles, whose wail almost breaks from her own chest when the sun goes down.

Dani rubs her legs in the quiet, searching for solidity. “I’m still here,” she whispers. She says it often, to no one, to everyone. A small tickle of fear trails up her back; it takes her a moment to realize why. “I’m still here,” she says again.

The end of the sentence trails up. It’s beginning to sound like a question.

\--

The evening ferry docks at 5pm. The day’s light clings to the horizon with a feeble winter’s glow. Dani parks the old truck in the queue. It’s only a half mile walk to Bly Manor, but the wind has picked up speed. Water sloshes against the wharf buoys and over the boardwalk in roiling waves of foam.

A smattering of people exit the ferry, locals returning from work on the mainland. Parents spot her and wave in greeting. Dani calls her hello, warm with admiration for these hardy people. It’s what attracted her to this tiny island and its close-knit community, burning like an ember against the wild cold of the sea. She’s always wanted to live in a place like this, where nature shapes people and not the other way around. The smile dies on her lips as she thinks of the morbid collection of newspaper clippings; she’s not the first to come here looking for peace.

A woman disembarks, hefting a large backpack and duffel. She hesitates, so out of place among the tweed and flat caps of the islanders, Dani has to laugh. She’s lean and angular in an open leather jacket, combat boots, and denim. Strapped to her wide belt are an assortment of strangely shaped holsters, a spool of wire, and a pack of cigarettes. A mane of curly brown hair completes the sight.

Dani steps out of the truck and walks down the landing. The stranger spots her immediately: Dani supposes she doesn’t fit in with the locals, either. “Are you here for the school?”

“Ms. Clayton?” A familiar accent. Shit, Dani thinks, caught by the green of her eyes: she’s as hot as she sounded.

“Call me Dani.” She extends her hand.

The stranger has the grip of a sea captain and a smile that makes Dani lose her train of thought. “I remember.” Jamie throws the bags in the truck bed and glances up at the beginnings of rain. “Appreciate the lift.”

“We don’t always have the friendliest weather out here.”

“If that’s a shock, am I free to assume you’re new to this country?”

Dani buckles her seatbelt and backs the truck out. “Two months.”

“Cheers, then. Welcome.” Jamie glances around. “This your truck?”

“The district’s. We go to the mainland twice a month for groceries.”

“Blimey. Don’t get out much, do you?”

Dani shifts a little hard into second gear. “I guess not.”

“You must really love teaching, takin’ a job in a spot like this.” Dani slows for a flock of sheep obstructing the road. “Had enough of the little ones back home?”

Dani eases the truck through the bleating animals, softly tapping the horn. She swallows back a twinge of irritation. “Just too many of them at once. Got a little tired of American standards. Or the lack of them.”

“Must be downright dismal, if it makes Bly attractive.”

“Thirty to a class.”

“Thirty screaming kids, Mother Mary.” Jamie puts her boot up on the dash absentmindedly. “Like the island life, do ya?”

“Mostly.”

“Make a lot of friends out here?”

What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? She summons a teacher’s patience. “A few.”

The sheep finally part. Dani speeds up-relieved. Jamie’s boot taps a tune in the air while she hums softly to herself. Dani goes to sneak a glance and is startled to realize Jamie is staring right at her. She looks ahead at the road again, cheeks burning. Finally, the manor swings into view. Dani parks the truck with a jolt and flees to the kitchen on the reliable pretense of making tea.

Dani fidgets while the kettle boils, looking out on the lake. It’s just a few hours at the most. She can handle it.

Jamie is waiting on the sofa, leaned back with a casual air that only exacerbates Dani’s annoyance.

“Lovely place,” Jamie says.

Dani sets the teapot and cups down warily. “Mmhm.”

The stranger plucks a cup from the table, appraising Dani keenly over the rim as she fills it.

Dani straightens, staring back through the rising steam, but she’s no match: months spent isolated have made her social skills wither. And to be fair – she thinks, glancing at the graceful lines of Jamie’s neck – her guests don’t usually look like this.

Jamie throws an arm over the back of the sofa, leather jacket creaking. “What’s your speciality, with the little ones?”

“Elementary education.”

“I mean, what subject do you like best?” Jamie raises the cup to her lips.

“History.”

“Aye, the past is an interesting tangle, isn’t it?”

“Probably especially if you’re a ghost hunter.”

Jamie smiles, gesturing with the cup. “Prerequisite of the job. But I’m sure you’ve noticed, you don’t have to go hunting them.”

“I’ve noticed.” Dani takes a sip of tea. The silence stretches. Jamie clears her throat.

“Appreciate if you’d show me around, gotta get the lay of the place. Know where to set traps and such.”

Dani leads a quick tour of the ground floor, pointing out exterior doors, the path to the lake. Jamie tries each handle, twisting and watching intently as they spring back into place, taps on each door and listens, even sniffs the dust along one of the windowsills. Dani keeps her face neutral, wondering privately if her guest is playing with a full deck of cards.

“All solid, no sign of aetherite. Possible loose mechanism here.”

Jamie’s jacket rides up when she squats down to inspect the front door lock. Dani shifts with an increase in temperature. Are all ghost exterminators are as fit as this one? Jamie looks over her shoulder just as Dani rips her eyes away and turns toward an empty corner of the room.

“Lots of ground to cover,” she says in that sly manner that’s beginning to grate Dani’s nerves. “Better get started.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

\--

Dani retreats hastily to the sitting room, snatching up a book on the use of color in math lessons. There’s a reason she hasn’t gotten around to reading it, but at this point dry academia is exactly what she needs. Children’s psychology develops around visual cues, few more important than pattern and colo-

She’s barely past the introduction when Jamie strides in crowned in an enormous set of headphones, floorboards reverberating under each booted step. Jamie mumbles to herself over the distant crackle and whine, adjusting exotic gauges on a light-festooned box. She takes two steps in each direction, drawing arrows and strange symbols in squeaking strokes of white chalk. Dani re-reads the sentence she’s on three times.

Jamie sweeps the headphones from her hair and hooks them to that massive leather belt, still mumbling. She presses a button that sets the device to beeping and pulls off her jacket. Over the top of her book Dani sees the lean outline of Jamie’s back, shaded by the contours of a tight grey t-shirt.

“Where’s the bed?”

Dani’s blinks. “Pardon?”

Jamie turns a dial on the machine she’s been waving. “Where do you sleep?”

“Oh. Upstairs.” Dani resists the urge to beat herself over the head with the book and leads the way. “In here.” She eases the door open to her room, with its plain bed and teak dresser. Jamie eyes the mirror above it, covered in a white sheet.

“Not gotten around to decorating, eh?”

Dani crosses her arms. “Not yet.”

Jamie smirks and strolls around the room, running her finger along the antique dresser, around Dani’s hairbrush and perfume bottle. She raps her knuckles on the windowsill, taking in the view. Dani doubts she’d feel any more violated if Jamie rummaged through her underwear drawer.

“What is it you need to do, in here?”

“Couple a things. The standard, salt on the threshold, silver wire round the doorknobs.” She reaches into one of her many holsters and pulls out a handful of tiny wooden crosses. “Toss these about.” She grins. “Undead hate the damn things.”

Dani feels the charm seeping around her defenses and resents it completely. “Whatever you say.”

Jamie takes another look at the covered mirror, sets down one of the crosses at its base with a wink. “One here for good measure.”

Dani is perilously close to losing her cool when Jamie strides past her out of the room, whistling and unspooling a thread of silver wire. She wraps the doorknob with practiced precision, clipping the ends with a cutter from her belt. Dani follows her, brooding.

“So,” Jamie begins. Dani fights not to roll her eyes. “Work here alone?”

“No. There’s a cook, Owen.”

“Private instruction, home cooking. How will they cope out in the real world?” Jamie chuckles. “What is it you do here when they’ve all gone home?”

“I walk, I read.” Dani lets her voice harden. “Enjoy the solitude.”

“Hm.” Jamie snips the wire, still smiling to herself. “Quite a lot of it to go round for someone like yourself.”

“And you know what I need, how, exactly?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow, leaving other ways of reading that question unsaid. “Just doin’ my job, miss. Critical in work like this to understand the parties involved.”

Dani’s nostrils flare. “Understand what?”

Jamie’s green eyes flit down and back up to meet Dani’s. “A little background. Like why a promising young soul would choose to work on a dreary island a ferry ride away from nowhere.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Jamie bows her head with a little smile. “Didn’t mean to offend.” She returns to wrapping the doorknob, humming quietly.

“I just…needed some space.” Dani shifts uncomfortably. It sounds more like she’s convincing herself than anything. “Change of scenery.”

Jamie nods, as if fleeing to an island with more sheep than people is a totally reasonable choice.

“Little salt here and there and I’m about finished.” She checks her watch. “Just in time.”

\--

The truck’s tires skim the gravel shoulder twice when gusts buffet them from the road. Dani keeps the wheel steady, single-minded in her desire to be free of this frustrating person.

Rounding the bend, her growing relief screeches to an abrupt halt. The dock sits empty. A bearded worker in a rainslicker has to nearly shout over the wind. “Pulled out early on account of the storm, Ms. Clayton. Haven’t said when they’ll be back yet.” Dani suppresses a groan, watching the waves push boats like toys in a bathtub.

Jamie shrugs, unfazed. “Suppose I’ll be your guest longer than expected.”

Dani forces a smile that comes out as a grimace and turns the truck around. The rain thunders from the sky in a sudden sheet when they reach the manor. She holds the door for Jamie and the bags, both dripping wet. Dani sighs. “Are you hungry?”

Jamie shakes water from her hair. “Famished.”

There’s plenty leftover from Owen’s wonders of the week. She lights the ancient gas stove and heats up a pan of tandoori chicken and some sort of beet-barley risotto Dani swears was crafted by the gods.

“Blimey, smells delicious. What’s a talented chef doing out here on the North Sea?”

“Taking care of his mom,” Dani says, stirring the chicken. “He was in Paris before.”

“Quite the change. Any family missing you back home?”

Thinking of the Midwest makes Dani squirm, like bumping into a splinter momentarily forgotten. “Not really. Mom’s back in Iowa. We aren’t close.” She heaps fixings on a plate and slides it in front of Jamie, who nods her thanks. “What about you?”

Dani detects something beneath Jamie’s smile, but it’s gone before she gets a clear look. “No blood. Just Hannah and Rebecca. All the family I need.”

“How long have you been doing…what you do?”

“Goin’ on five years now. Takes a while, to get the training, apply for a license, whatnot.” She takes a bite. “Hannah gave me a chance, took me on. Rest is history.” Jamie beats her to the next question. “This your first haunting?”

Dani freezes, fork in the air. “Yeah.” She sets it down. “Owen was saying there’s been a lot of…I don’t know, things like this. How is it so common now?”

“Has to do with culture, our treatment of the dead. Almost never happened, in the olden times.”

“Why?”

“Been to any funerals lately?” Dani blanches. A litany of images appear unbidden: a black dress and a casket, a line of people whispering _We’re so sorry, Danielle_. Jamie continues, a curious glint to her gaze. “Horrid, aren’t they? Artificial. A sad suggestion of the grieving process. Everyone gathers round, say their jolly bit about the deceased. Maybe spare a few tears for the tissue.” Jamie takes a bite. “And we’re supposed to be laying them to rest, hmm? Corpse in question shut tight in a posh wooden box, where neither sight nor smell can offend the living.”

Another memory surfaces, of a rainy street and a metallic scent she won’t forget as long as she lives. Dani looks away from her plate, nauseated.

“Oy, Poppins, we’ve gotten so afraid of death we seal it away. Even when we have the courage to say farewell in person, we flood the poor bastards with so many chemicals a plastics factory could be jealous.” She smirks. “And nobody thinks that will bother the dead. That it might disturb how things have been since the dawn of time.”

“What does that have to do with ghosts?”

“How would it feel to you, to be invisible?”

Dani frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You ever been in public, on a train or in some crowded place, and felt like you could light your hair on fire, scream at the top of your lungs, and no one would even so much as glance your way?” Dani doesn’t answer; she isn’t sure she’s ever _not_ felt that way. “Imagine you’re always there, trapped between realities. Nobody can hear you, but you can hear and feel everything - every suppressed thought and emotion. All the dark and desperate things.” Jamie tilts her head to the side. Dani senses she’s honing in on something but is powerless to stop her. “All those memories you tuck away. The bad and the angry and the guilty. Ever wonder where they go?” Jamie motions with her fork. “Doesn’t just disappear. It goes behind the veil. Everything you kill joins the dead.”

A haze of dysphoria climbs from acid depths, stinging like a poison cloud. It’s a familiar sensation, followed by a familiar anger. “Are you saying the haunted deserve their haunting?”

“I’m saying that everything is connected. We don’t face things in this world anymore. Death is a part of us. The most natural thing. But we flee from it, and then we’re surprised when the dead stir.”

Dani tastes venom on her words, and spits them out anyway. “I suppose you’re the expert on death.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Expert, no. But none of us are amateurs in this business.”

Dani stands, tosses her dish in the sink. Jamie’s voice halts her at the threshold. “You ever wonder why you can see it, and others can’t? Have you wondered what it is that makes you different?”

“Why don’t you tell me then.”

Jamie’s eyes are no longer prying “You can’t see the dead unless you’ve touched the veil. There’s only one way to get close enough without crossing over yourself.” She watches Dani reeling for a moment. When she speaks again her voice is soft. “Who was it?”

Dani’s eyes blur with tears as her jaw works, struggling for anything to say. “It’s not me,” she finally chokes out. “That last teacher drowned herself in the lake. She brought that thing out from its grave.”

Jamie gives a sad smile. “Dani…the dead don’t come for the dead. They come for the living.”

Dani wants to scream. Instead her voice gets smaller. “So this is my fault, too?”

Jamie stands and takes a few steps nearer. “What’s happened to make you hide out here?”

Dani breathes into the shrinking distance between them, quiet punctuated by the sound of the rain outside. “It’s not any of your business.” She winces. It comes out like the childish dodge that it is.

“Well, if you feel like talking, I’ll be here all night,” Jamie says, a gentle play back in her voice.

Dani collects herself and brushes a tear from her cheek self-consciously. “Right. I’ll get you some blankets.”

\--

The only couch fit for sleeping is in the downstairs sitting room. Dani gathers the scattered coloring books and crayons, tosses a heavy blanket over the cushions and props a few pillows on one end. She can hear the clicks and murmurs of Jamie moving through the house, checking every preparation. Dani’s head throbs with exhaustion. She’s been staring at the wall a full minute when Jamie appears and plops into a chair, unlacing her boots.

“You look like you could use a nightcap,” she says. “Got anything stronger than tea in this schoolhouse?”

“I really should get to bed,” Dani says, rubbing her brow.

She tries to ignore how the dim light bathes Jamie’s smile in a soft glow. “Aye, you’ve had a long day. Thank you for the blankets.”

\--

Dani brushes her teeth with her eyes closed, changes into a cold t-shirt and pants. She’s only under the sheets a few minutes before a student is asking her a question. The sun is shining somewhere back in Iowa, she kneels in the bark chip to hear their whisper.

A crash from downstairs sends her bolt upright in bed.

“Jamie?” Dani throws on a sweater and creeps down the steps, reliving the last nightmarish trip to the darkened foyer. Jamie crouches at the foot of the stairs in boxers and her grey t-shirt, holding a vial of luminescent liquid like a grenade.

She faces Dani and holds a finger to her lips. The front doorhandle turns slowly, then snaps upright again. Jamie grins and mouths _silver_ to Dani in the dark. The wood shudders with another crash as something throws its bodyweight against the door. There is a painful screech of fingernails along the surface, and another crash that makes Dani cover her mouth to suppress a whimper. A dark shape moves in the window adjacent the door. Jamie ducks beside Dani, hiding in the shadows of the bannister.

The Lady of the Lake appears through the glass, lurking a moment before disappearing around the corner. “Oh,” Jamie whispers excitedly. “ _Definitely_ a Scornmaiden. She’s right pissed, isn’t she?” Jamie glances over when there’s no reply from Dani. She trembles in the dark, focused intensely on averting a panic attack. The steadying weight of a hand settles on her back. Jamie’s whisper is warm in her ear. “It’s alright. It’ll take her more than a night to figure her way around what I set out.”

“She can get around it?” Dani whispers anxiously. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got another couple tricks up the old sleeve if she does.” She snorts softly with pride. “See? Not coming back tonight.”

They listen for what seems like an eternity, but there’s just the sound of the wind and the rain. Jamie takes her hand from Dani’s back and sighs. “So much for restful evening, ey?”

Dani recovers from Jamie’s touch long enough for a thought to click. “You saw it. You can see her.”

Jamie meets her eyes for a long moment. A weariness shows there, and an understanding that stretches across the space between them. “Wouldn’t be too good at this gig if I couldn’t keep track of where the danger was. Like I said, no amateurs in this line of work.”

Dani searches her eyes in the faint light, voice hoarse with regret. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“It’s alright, Poppins.”

“That your nickname for me?” 

Jamie smirks. “Fits you.”

They’re so close, Dani can feel her breath, can see exactly the way her jaw cuts in, sharpness contrasting with the soft curve of her lips. This time, she makes no attempt to stop her gaze from resting there. “I don’t mind.” Jamie’s eyes widen in the dark. “Still up for that drink?”

\--

Dani didn’t bring any liquor to Bly, but her forebears had other ideas. Under an otherwise ordinary cabinet is a stockpile of hooch big enough to get the entire island singing.

Jamie whistles softly as Dani turns a key and slides the doors back. “When the children are away…”

“Don’t judge,” Dani says. “You ever been to a PTA meeting?” She selects a bottle that must have been a gift to its owner; its price tag has too many zeros for a teacher’s salary. She squints at Jamie holds it up questioningly. “You’re British, aren’t you?”

“The Scots who made that would be very offended by your question.”

Dani does her best imitation of the Queen’s stuffy lilt. “Are you or are you not a subject of the United Kingdom?”

Jamie laughs. “God, I’ll drink it, I’ll drink it. Just promise not to do that again!”

Jamie stocks the fireplace in the sitting room while Dani fetches a pair of tumblers, noting that her guest elects to keep her pants off. Dani pours two shots into each glass, shrugs, and adds another. Oops.

She sits on the floor beside Jamie. “It’s freezing.”

Jamie accepts the glass and raises it. “Not for long.” She clinks it against Dani’s with a formal nod. “To being rid of that stinky pond wench.” Jamie takes a sip and gives a low whoop. “Good to know you’ve got a taste for things that aren’t tea.”

Dani coughs against the smoky burn. “It’s pretty unladylike of me, but I prefer my whiskey straight.”

“’S that right?”

Dani holds her gaze for an extra beat. “Other things, not so much.” A smile curls at the corner of Jamie’s lips. “So…” she says, taking another sip. “Anyone around here going to tell me what a Scornmaiden is?”

Jamie grins, setting another piece of wood atop the lit kindling. “You’ve gone and done it, Poppins. You and your baggage have woken us a proper water wench.”

Dani laughs, buoyed by liquid courage. “Please explain.”

“Water wenches are a group, like gargoyles or ghouls.” She reads Dani’s confusion. “Like breeds of dog. Terriers, hounds, mutts. They’re all dogs but they have different characteristics.”

“Ok, so there are…breeds of water wenches.”

“Aye. Different flavors. Mad Marys, Weepin’ Women, and the nastiest: Scornmaidens.” Dani leans in like a kid at a campfire story. “The others are mostly hassles. I scrubbed a restaurant in Edinburgh once whose Mad Mary dented every pot in the place.” She shakes her head. “Scornmaidens, though. They’re one of the few red class PM’s we deal with.”

The flames catch with a warm glow. “Red class?”

“Means dangerous. Likely to cause bodily injury. Greens are harmless, yellows cause property damage or psychological stress, and reds can hurt people.”

Dani watches the flames curl around the glowing logs. “How many reds have you…scrubbed?”

Jamie’s chin raises an inch. “Ten. Eleven technically, but Rebecca had to grab me by the ankles and pull me out before I got flottled.” She shoots Dani a sideways glance. “You don’t wanna know.”

Dani laughs again, an odd sensation. It’s been a long time since she laughed this much. She catches Jamie looking like she enjoys the sound. “Well, that’s reassuring. That you’ve done this before.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Scrubbin’ ghosts, or staying overnight at a pretty client’s house?”

A thrill chases her sip of scotch. “Is that something you do often?”

“Actually,” Jamie says, shifting a little toward her, “first time on the latter.”

Something catches Dani’s eye in the firelight: a ragged scar. It runs down Jamie’s thigh to her knee, where a deep indent suggests missing bone. Jamie freezes when Dani runs a finger along the white line, tracing the strange firmness of rejoined tissue, smooth as a pearl under her fingertip. “Are there worse things than Scornmaidens?”

“Aye.” Jamie looks to the flames. “Was an accident. Rebecca…she was mixed up with a bloke. Peter. None of us liked him. Had a bad affect on her. But…” she sighs, “she’s my mate, and she asked me a favor. He had this old hotel he’d acquired. Got it for a song because of the haunting there.”

“And he wanted you to clear it out so he could make a killing.”

“Funny you phrase it like that.” Jamie runs her finger through the condensation on her glass. “We didn’t tell Hannah. Keepin’ it off the books. Thought we just had a ghoul, cut and dry by how he described it. God, we were fucking stupid.”

“Because if it were that simple, the seller would have hired someone already.”

“Right you are.” Jamie shakes her head. “We cornered it, on the third floor. Movin’ in for a scrub, cocky as you like. Rebecca backs up in a rush, pushin’ me out of the way. And I realize it’s an Eye for Eye. How shall I describe ‘em? Massive, ugly as sin, and pissier than a badger in a bee nest. It knocked the both of us flat, dragging Rebecca off into the dark.” Jamie drains her glass and sets it on the floor. “Did what I had to do. I got her out, but I paid for it. Bled so much the doctor said most of the stuff in me wasn’t mine anymore. Seven bags they put in. I’d have gladly gone through that again rather than face Hannah the morning after.” Dani refills her glass in sympathy. “Put her through hell, thinking I was going to die. But she wasn’t the one who banked on it.” Jamie meets her eyes, gaze hard. “Do you know why they’re called Eye for Eyes?” Dani shakes her head. “Because there’s only one way to get rid of ‘em, short of shelling out for white-class removal. They disappear after they’ve killed someone.”

Dani groans. “You were set up.”

“Me?” Jamie chuckles. “Who gives a load about me. Imagine you’re Rebecca and you’ve just watched your best mate get half-eaten saving you from a lover’s favor.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dani says, putting the cold glass to her forehead.

“Aye, Poppins. I’m sure even if Rebecca hadn’t been keen on killing him, Hannah would have done the job herself. But the slimy bastard disappeared with all he could carry.” Jamie’s jaw tightens. “She didn’t tell me until later that he’d been…I dunno, cruel to her. Taking her down with his words when we weren’t around. Made her want to please him so he could toss her like a steak to the beast.”

And then she almost had to watch someone close to her die, Dani thinks. It occurs to her that Rebecca must already know what that’s like. That Hannah does, and definitely the person sitting next to her. Jamie seems to sense her thoughts. “Alright. I’ve shown you mine, now show me yours.”

“You mean, what kind of crazy-ass history conjures homicidal corpses from the mud?”

Jamie grins. “Your words.”

Dani blows out a breath and refills her glass. “It probably has to do with my dead fiancé.”

Jamie waits for her to continue, then points at the door. “Should be in here with you, or taking my chances out there with the Lady?”

Dani laughs despite the subject. She’s never told a soul, but the whiskey burns away old doubts. Jamie’s presence grounds the rest.

“He was…I don’t know. Always around. From when we were kids. It was expected. I went along with it. I just thought, you know, something was wrong with me. That I’d want it all eventually. That I’d want him.” Dani watches a curl of wood catch fire, roll into the coals and dissolve into nothingness. It takes her two sips to continue. “I waited until the last second. Two weeks before the wedding, until I was so miserable I thought my face would fall off.” She shrugs. “And then I told him. You know what he said?” Jamie watches, no trace of mirth in her eyes. “He said, ‘fuck you, Danielle. I hate you. You’ve ruined my life.’ And then he got out of the car, and got hit by a truck right in front of me.”

Dani braces herself for a torrent of emotion, but feels only a disembodied bitterness.

“Blimey, what a prat.”

Dani startles. “What?”

“What a bloody arse. Says he wants to marry you and then shows not a shred of concern when you say you’re not happy.”

“Jamie, I broke up with him on the eve of our wedding.”

“Heard that part. Also the bit where he acted like a four-year old denied his pudding.” Jamie looks like she wants to spit. “People aren’t possessions.”

Dani laughs incredulously. “Aren’t you Ms. Show-the-dead-respect?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well…he’s dead.”

“It hasn’t occurred to you yet?”

“What hasn’t?”

Jamie leans over and puts her hand on top of Dani’s. “It hasn’t occurred to you,” she says, close enough for Dani to see the freckles on her nose, “that what you said to him and his death are totally unconnected.”

Dani feels a hot flash of defensiveness despite the weight of Jamie’s touch. “You said everything was connected.”

“You don’t decide who lives and who dies, Poppins.” She feels it then, despite her resistance: a sliver of separation. It blooms from the warmth of Jamie’s palm, wedging apart destiny and chance. Still Dani shakes her head, pulling away. Jamie keeps her hand firmly in place.

“Do you regret it? What you said to him?”

A cascade of reactions pile up. The push and jostle and demand Dani’s attention, while one word, quiet and true, rises to the surface. Her eyes fill with tears. “No,” she whispers.

“No. But you think you should, because he died the moment after you decided to live.”

It had seemed so simple. She spoke; he died. Dani feels the foregone conclusion dissolve under the scrutiny of an outsider: not cause and effect, but tragic coincidence. The guilt of hurting Eddie would have faded in the ordinary aftermath of a breakup. Instead it lived on, a specter haunting her as vividly as the smell of his blood on the pavement. Dani wipes tears on her shirt sleeve. “This part of your job? Being a shrink for the living?”

Jamie laughs. “Actually, that’s Hannah’s gig.” She takes her hand away, picking up the glass again.

Dani looks at Jamie a long moment, courage rising with the heat. “You can put your hand back.”

Jamie almost chokes on her sip. She sets the glass down. “You sure?”

Dani kisses her in one smooth motion. She feels Jamie’s reflexive gasp before she leans in, and God, she’s a good kisser. Dani pulls back, smiling into Jamie’s whiskey-scented lips. “I’m sure.”

“Thank fuck,” Jamie mumbles. “Haven’t been able to take my goddamn eyes off you all night.”

“And here I thought you were stripping off your jacket an account of the sunny weather.” Jamie winks, not in the least bit apologetic, and kisses her again.

Jamie’s hand brushes up to hold Dani’s jaw. Dani groans and leans in to the touch, so good its almost painful. Jamie parts her lips and the feel of her tongue makes Dani’s head swim. She takes a handful of Jamie’s shirt and pulls her closer. Jamie slows, running her lips along Dani’s cheek. “You alright with this? We can go slow, I don’t want it to be too much – ”

Dani realizes where this is leading and laughs. “What makes you think…” she says, running a finger along Jamie’s lip, “that this is my first time?”

Jamie balks and traces the muscles of Dani’s arm, chastised. “My mistake.”

“You’re forgiven.” Dani’s cheeky smile fades in the intensity of eye contact; she holds it so long she feels like she’ll pitch headlong into open space. Definitely a first time for that. Jamie cups her face gently and presses the bridge of her nose against Dani’s. They breathe like that a moment, foreheads together.

“Dani,” she says softly. “You’re trembling.”

Dani winces against vibrating fatigue running up her arms. Days, she thinks, since she got any sleep. The alcohol and the exhaustion blanket her senses in a fog. “I’m alright.”

Jamie kisses her gently, kindness in her smile. “’Course you are.”

Dani squints through the haze. “Did I just meet you this morning?”

Jamie brushes a blonde hair from Dani’s face. “Doesn’t feel like it, does it?” She stands and tosses an extra log on the fire, drags the couch closer to the hearth. She pulls up the heavy blanket and beckons Dani beside her.

Dani slides into her arms. Jamie’s old t-shirt is softer than the finest cashmere. She’s never felt a body fit against hers more perfectly, effortlessly comfortable even on the narrow couch. And God, the smell of her. Dani puts her lips against the indent just below Jamie’s ear and inhales. It wakes her enough for a few more minutes of exploring Jamie’s lips. She laughs at Dani’s groan of frustration when she starts fading again. “There’ll be other nights.”

“Promise?”

Jaime has a dangerous look. “Trust me.” Dani settles with a sigh **.** The storm rages on, rattling windows and pushing drafts through the house, but all Dani feels as the blackness of sleep descends is the even tide of Jamie’s breathing.

\--

Dani wakes to the low moan of the wind outside and diffuse light from the curtains. It takes her a moment to realize where she is. Jamie. Jamie is under her arm. Dani breathes her in, cedar and vanilla. She lies there a while, watching Jamie’s shoulder rise and fall softly, the way the morning light plays in her hair. Dani can’t remember the last time she woke up this warm, a warmth that heats her all the way through. Especially, she’s noticing, one place in particular.

Dani brushes her lips against the fine hair on the back of Jamie’s neck. She lets out a sigh and stirs.

“W’ time’s it?”

Dani grips Jamie’s firm stomach and presses into her back, teeth sinking into the spot just above her shirt collar.

Jamie flexes with a sharp inhale and arches into her, grabbing Dani’s thigh. Dani’s hand trails down to the dip between her ribs and the blade of her hip bones, relishing every twitch in response. She breathes over the skin sporting her teeth marks, grabs Jamie’s hips, and grinds into her from behind.

Jamie’s fingers dig into her thigh, pulling her even tighter. She lets out a low moan that pushes Dani over the edge. Jamie rolls over, lips crashing into hers. Dani threads her hands up her shirt, feeling Jamie’s nipples perk at the touch. They sweat and tangle under the blanket, building energy until shorts and boxers are stripped off. Jamie slows for a second, getting consent with a careful look. Dani grabs her wrist and plants Jamie’s hand firmly where she wants it.

Jamie’s pupils swell. “Guessing that’s a yes.” Dani arches up with a gasp as Jamie slides into her. She’s so wet it’s effortless-so turned on that it takes no time at all for Jamie to be fucking her in a way that should be impossible after months isolated.

Dani shifts until her leg lands where she can feel Jamie hot and slick against her thigh. She rocks in time to Jamie’s hand until they’re both panting and crying out. Dani watches Jamie’s eyes squeeze shut, her mouth open, and her hips jerk. It’s more than she can take. Dani hears herself shout a list of obscenities and loses all control, screaming into Jamie’s shoulder for more. Jamie laughs in awe and rides her hard up to the delicious edge and over, flexing inside with a gleeful grin as she gasps and shudders with the last of the best orgasm of her life.

Dani falls back to the couch with an exhale and a stunned grin. “Um, good morning?”

“And to you,” Jamie pants, hair wild. She eases down beside her and slides out, muffling Dani’s gasp with a kiss. Dani moans. God, she could keep going. Jamie gives her a dizzy look. “I don’t suppose that Owen bloke left any breakfast lying around?”

“Always.” She stands and pulls her shorts back on, catching green eyes on her ass. “Uh-uh, you don’t get to if I don’t.” She reaches down and rips the blanket aside, noticing Jamie’s recoil at the last second. The reason is clear in the morning light. Dani kneels and pulls up Jamie’s shirt gently.

The fissure starts just below the sternum, a twisting lightning bolt of scar tissue nearly two inches thick that winds its way across the taught muscles of her abdomen and into her upper leg, where the faint outlines of a skin graft still show. Both of Dani’s hands could fit inside its ghostly border. The scar dwindles it to its end: the ragged thin line her fingers traced the night before. 

“Jamie,” she whispers.

She chuckles dryly. “Not a pretty sight, is it.”

Dani touches her chin and turns Jamie to face her. “Don’t you ever, ever worry for one second about how you look to me.” Jamie blinks and gives a small nod. Dani kisses her softly, and looks back down at the scar. She runs her fingers along its edge, sending prickles of goosebumps across Jamie’s chest. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore. I can’t feel much where it is.”

Dani leans in and presses her lips below Jamie’s sternum. “You feel that?”

Jamie nods again through a haze of emotion. Dani pulls her shirt back down and smooths the blanket over her lap. “Where on earth did you come from?” Jamie wonders softly.

Dani makes a face. “Waterloo. Never go there.”

\--

Breakfast takes an hour to prepare, interrupted by make-out sessions that almost end with Dani dragging her guest back to the bedroom. The meal is perfect in that way that only breakfast after sex can be. Jamie does the dishes half naked afterward, Dani leaning over the counter to ogle her without an ounce of shame. She’s savoring the smell of coffee and the warmth of the cup in her hands when the entire reason for Jamie’s visit hits her like a truck.

Jamie takes in her apprehensive look. “Probably should see how my traps held last night.”

Dani nods. “Let me put on something warmer.” The welcome throb in her lips, coffee jitters, and the premise of going outside fight for supremacy over her heart rate as she climbs the stairs.

Getting dressed sounded simple, as it was every day at Bly. Now Dani feels a pang of regret surveying the vanilla outfits. She hadn’t exactly expected to be shacking up with a beautiful ghosthunter, but still. Dani catches her tousled reflection in the glass of the window and giggles.

She settles on lavender sweater with a deep neckline and a pair of high-waisted jeans a bit too form-fitting for her profession. She sweeps her hair back and leaves it messy – little choice without a shower. Her hand hovers over the perfume bottle. Fuck it, she thinks, and allows herself one pump.

Jamie waits in the foyer, boots and jacket donned. She stands as Dani comes down the stairs, watching her every step. Her wide-eyed gape makes Dani’s cheeks burn. “Are you…” Jamie takes her in a swift kiss, pushing her back against the railing, “…trying to kill me?”

Dani giggles. “What do you mean?”

“Bollocks,” Jamie growls. “You know exactly how you look.”

Dani’s grin fades when she sees the front door over her shoulder. Jamie kisses her forehead. “Ready, Poppins?” Dani nods and reluctantly releases Jamie’s jacket.

Jamie walks to the door, slides the deadbolt out with a click and waits a beat, listening to the light rain.

“Fuck, they can’t haunt in the daytime, can they?”

“Pretty rare,” Jamie says. She gives Dani a little smirk and motions to her scar. “But I’m a lot more careful than I used to be.”

When nothing stirs, Jamie opens the door and looks out. She grunts. “Salt’s dissolved from the rain, but look there.”

Tracks stop abruptly at a scorch mark on the ground. Dani glances around at the dramatic sky, angry clouds boiling on the horizon. The wind still tares in gusts through the trees. Jamie steps over the burned earth, chuckling to herself. “Bet that singed her britches.” Dani follows her hesitantly, wary of the blurred footprints leading to and from the water. Jamie bends down and runs soil through her hands. The air smells strangely of ozone and pond scum.

The water of the lake ripples in the wind. How is it possible that something is in there? Under the surface, waiting for sunset. Connected to her somehow. Dani thinks of all she’s suppressed and winces. It’s enough for an army of ghosts.

Dani’s eyes are still on the lake when she Jamie calls from behind. “We’ve got a problem.”

A sinking dread fills Dani’s . Ragged, deep gouges mar the door, as if some giant dragged a fist full of knives across its face. The frame hangs broken in places, splintered by some enormous pressure. Even the stone wall shows faint indentations.

“Do…do Scornmaidens do that?”

Jamie turns and looks out at the clouds looming over the coast. A gale rips through the trees, sending a branch falling to the ground.

“Dani, I need to use your phone.”

\--

“Off island call,” she says, willing her voice to be calm.

“Ms. Clayton! Glad to hear you’re surviving the storm. I’ll put you through.” Dani hears the click and hands the phone to Jamie, who leans in so she can hear.

Mrs. Grose answers. “Jamie, give me an update.”

“Barriers held, but we have a problem.” She looks at Dani, voice even. “It’s not a Scornmaiden.”

There is a pause. Dani can hear Rebecca in the background whispering “Did she scrub it? What’s wrong?”

“Jamie,” Hannah says, “what did you see?”

“Human form, taller than average. Rotting dress.”

“Tell me you saw a face.”

Jamie lets out a breath. “I thought it was just the dark until this morning. Hannah…the door’s almost in pieces. If it hadn’t been solid oak you’d be shipping bits of us back to the mainland.”

Hannah’s silence is worse to Dani than anything said. When her voice returns, Dani can detect the alarm. “Jamie. The storm hasn’t broken. It won’t run its course until at least tomorrow morning. I’ve even tried to hire a plane. No one will cross the sea in this weather.”

Jamie closes her eyes. Dani hears something being thrown and Rebecca shouting in the background that she’ll row herself in a goddamn fishing boat if that’s what it takes. Hannah shushes her and her voice firms. “What have you got with you?

“Standard red alarm kit. I also brought six bottles of Special Sauce, six blast caps, and a five-pound bag of Morton’s.” Jamie sets her jaw. “Tell me what I need to know, boss.”

“Is the client there with you?”

“She’s here.”

“Dani, how close are you to the nearest residence?”

“About a twenty-minute walk. The estate is…pretty big.”

“Good. You need to cancel all classes and not have anyone near the house until we can get you reinforcements.”

“I will.”

“Are you happy?”

Dani blinks. “What?”

“Tell me what you’ve been feeling the past twelve hours.”

Dani suddenly can’t look at Jamie. She clears her throat. “Uh, yeah, I guess I’ve been feeling ok.”

“But before, you were depressed?”

“Yeah…”

“Desperately so?”

“Why – ”

“Dani. This is very important. I must know if anything significant has happened to your sense of well-being in the past twenty-four hours.”

Jamie motions for her to continue. Dani takes a breath and looks at the ceiling. “When you saw me yesterday, I was really frightened…and yeah, pretty depressed. I thought, um, maybe I was going to die? And after you and Rebecca left I felt a little better.”

“Go on.”

Dani fights to keep her voice even. “And then Jamie got here, and we talked, and…I felt worse for a moment but then better.”

“Why was that?”

“We talked about why I’m here. And she…helped me change my perspective.”

“Hmm,” she says with suspicion. “And did that make you happy?”

Dani sighs and rolls her eyes. “That came later.”

“I knew it!” Rebecca hoots. Dani hears a _thwack_ and muffled reprimands from Hannah.

“Give the phone back to Jamie.”

Jamie leans in. “I’m here.”

“Jamie. It’s bad.”

“Ya, figured that by the Godzilla marks on the door.”

“You’re going to need everything you’ve got, and then some. You’ve got six hours before dark.”

Jamie’s tone is grim. “And then another eight to sunrise.”

“Keep your wits about you. That beast is powerful. The type to have an Eye for Eye for supper.” Dani’s heart skips a beat. “Hold out as long as you can. If you need to, go for Plan B.”

“Right.”

“Rebecca wants to say some words.” The line rustles.

“Oy, Taylor.”

“Jessel.”

“I’m not gonna get all sappy on ya. Don’t fucking die. That’s an order.”

Jamie smiles. “Don’t have your arse to save this time, so that should keep me safe.”

“True.” Rebecca pauses. “She’s pretty.”

“I’m hanging up the phone now.”

“Wait. I’ve just got one last thing to say.”

Jamie hesitates, looking incensed. “What is it?”

“Remember to wash up before you eat.”

\--

Dani drags a board over to Jamie, who gives it a frown. “This moldy lot all there is?”

Dani looks back to the shed, stripped of every serviceable timber. “Afraid so.”

Jamie puts a boot to the center of the weakened board and breaks it in half with a sigh. “Hannah always says be creative with what you’ve got.” She plants it between the others on the outside of the door and hammers a few nails home.

“We could put a table against it.”

“I’ve counted. We’ll need all the tables for the windows.”

Dani takes a shaky breath, fighting back a crushing sense of doom. They might as well be gluing wool to the door. Jamie walks over and pulls her into a hug. “Easy, Poppins. Too early for thoughts of defeat.”

“What is that thing?” she asks into Jamie’s jacket.

“It’s a Wrathort.”

“Sounds like you’re talking with your mouth full.”

“They start out as Scornmaidens. We dunno where Scornmaidens come from, but theory is they’re spirits of women who kill themselves after being snubbed by a lover.” Jamie snorts. “Everyone always goes straight to blamin’ the women.” Dani laughs a little and she shrugs. “A ghoul’s a ghoul. No need to romanticize it. Anyway. Wrathorts. They’re unique.”

“I’m so glad,” Dani groans. Jamie squeezes her tighter.

“Unique because they don’t only grow from buried darkness. You remember what I said?”

“’All you kill joins the dead.’”

“Aye, with Wrathorts, they start out feeding on grief, trauma, hatred and the like. Classic red class. But, as the misogynistic legend tells it, Wrathorts die jealous. If there’s one thing that gears them up, it’s when a miserable soul finds happiness.”

Dani’s eyes widen. She jumps back from Jamie like she’s a hot coal. Jamie reaches out, confused and alarmed.

“Don’t!” Dani shouts, holding up a finger. “Stay back.”

“What?” Jamie sniffs herself. “Do I need a shower?” She cackles. “Relax, Poppins. You can’t make a Wrathort more wrathy. Once they’ve turned over, that’s it.”

Dani wilts. “Oh.”

“But…” Jamie brushes off her jacket smugly. “I understand your concern.”

“You’re insane,” Dani laughs, relieved that she doesn’t have to spend twelve hours keeping her hands off this maddening woman.

Jamie’s eyes soften. “And you’re beautiful.”

The ground sways, and for an entire five seconds Dani forgets they’re barricading the door against a mutated horror show. “We better get this finished,” she says, voice low. “I’d like an hour minimum to enjoy my last day on earth.”

“Won’t be, if I have anything to say about it.” Jamie smiles. “I’ve got an idea.”

\--

Dani gathers the six remaining birthday balloons. They seem suddenly out of place, as if she’s no longer in a school but a war zone. Jamie pulls out a glittering vial like the one she held in the foyer last night and carefully pulls out the stopper. “Special Sauce,” she grins. “Hannah’s own recipe. Silver nitrate, a little holy water, raven’s gift, a few other secrets she’ll never tell, even to me.”

Jamie adds a splash to each balloon using a kitchen funnel, then blows them up carefully and ties them. “Fix these to the door, should change her mind about comin’ in that way.”

“What about…guns?” Dani asks carefully.

Jamie tsks. “Quite American of ya, Poppins. Guns are for the living. Shootin’ spirits is about as effective as throwing rocks at the wind, and PMs…” Jamie sighs. “They’ve got a body, so to speak. But you might have noticed your Lady of the Lake hasn’t dissolved after a few hundred years of sleeping with the fishes.”

“Is she…immortal?”

Jamie laughs. “Blimey, no. I’d be out of a job if that were true. Even white-class can be scrubbed.” Jamie turns to her, gesturing for emphasis. “We don’t know much, but we know there are two things needed to make a ghost: a deceased that can’t let go, and a living soul who can’t let go. The more extreme the pairing, the more extreme the haunting.”

Dani winces. “Am I really that fucked up?”

“No, no. You were just the last straw for this one.”

Dani thinks of the teachers before her, the well-stocked liquor cabinet and untimely deaths. “I guess Bly Manor doesn’t attract the most stable candidates.”

“Exactly. A string of public servants fleeing the modern world, languishing on this dreary little island. Your Lady ate it up like Sunday Bakewell. You were going to be her latest victim, but all she got was a handful of silver while you were safe and…” she flashes a devious look that makes Dani’s heart flutter, “quite enjoying yourself in what was probably once her home.”

“So how do you kill something that’s already dead?”

“You don’t, you just put it back where it belongs.”

“Behind the veil.”

Jamie nods. “Lower classes can be coaxed or bothered into leaving. White-class have to be blasted. Takes an advanced device, only a few of them in the country. Rumor is the Queen has to sign off on it herself.”

“I guess opening a rift to the great beyond isn’t something you’d want to leave to just anyone.”

“Takes a special operator. Hannah is licensed to run one. Part of why I sought her out. She’s the best.”

“So why doesn’t she? Run one, I mean.”

“She always says it’s financial, she doesn’t want to put her support team at risk, blah blah…” Jamie sets the empty vial down with a _thunk_. “But I think she just got tired. When you run open a portal to the veil, things spill out. Do you know it takes five years of psychological training, another two of apprenticeship to get licensed? You’re a bloody monk by the time you finish.”

“Psychological training?”

“It’s called _The Breadmaker_. The idea is that it opens a portal and leaves a trail of crumbs for the ghoul to follow until they slip through. You hook it up to yourself,” Jamie motions to her head. “And blast out a frequency. It’s hard to describe. You feel out what the spirit needs, manifest what it’s seeking, and then you plant the breadcrumbs.” Jamie sees Dani shudder and smirks. “Now you understand.”

“The things you must have to feel…”

“Not just the spirit’s, but everyone they’ve swallowed.” Jamie shakes her head. “Smells like bread baking, too. Strangest thing…”

Dani snaps into the present. “You’ve seen it?”

Jamie turns the vial in her hands. “I got Rebecca to the door, but then I fell down. Couldn’t get up again. She wasn’t in such good form herself, couldn’t carry me down the stairs. The paramedics can’t come in until its scrubbed. So…eh, she had to leave me there.” Dani takes Jamie’s hand. Jamie sighs, her trademark smile wavering. “Lucky for me, Eye for Eyes like their kills slow and painful. So it left me alone mostly. Hannah got there quick.” Jamie’s eyes shine with the memory. “You should have seen her, Poppins. Like a warrior queen of old. Last thing I saw before I went out was her in a blaze of glory, sending that thing back to the bowels of hell.”

Dani pictures the kind of injury Jamie had, lying there in the dark. What Hannah and Rebecca must have gone through. What they’re going through now, knowing Jamie is alone with something twice as dangerous. Dani squeezes her strong hand. Not alone.

“Teach me to fight it,” she says. “I want to help.”

“You just get more and more attractive,” Jamie says with a devious grin.

\--

Three hours gone, and Dani buzzes with anxiety. A peasant’s arsenal litters the floor: a broomstick spear dipped in Special Sauce, a woodcutting axe, salt bombs, and a makeshift blowtorch Jamie fashioned out of a kerosene canister.

“We don’t use any of this unless we have to. The plan is to keep a wall between us and it at all times,” Jamie says. Dani nods. “Remember, you can do damage, but she’ll heal. She’s faster than you, stronger than you. She won’t ever get tired. We might slow her down but she’ll come back even worse each time, and definitely more pissed.”

Dani looks around at the tables shoved against windows, the sound of the wind howling outside. “Jamie. What’s Plan B?”

“Run.”

The phone rings and scares a year off Dani’s life. She rubs her forehead and picks up the receiver.

“Hello, Dani?”

“Owen.”

“Good Lord, why didn’t you call? I was just told you’re shutting down by Flora’s parents on the phone tree.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been…” Dani glances at Jamie. “Busy.”

“Is this about the Lady?”

“Yeah. It’s bad, Owen.”

“Are the exterminators there? Are they getting you out?”

“One is. We’re kind of trapped here until the storm passes.”

“I’m coming over.”

“Owen, no!” Dani nearly shouts. “You’ve got to promise me that you will absolutely not come near the school.”

“Dani – ”

“I’m not kidding. You can’t help, you’ll just get hurt.”

“Why aren’t they getting you out of there?”

“Because it’s after me. The island is too small; anywhere I went, she’d follow. I’d be putting everyone at risk.” Owen groans helplessly. “You have to stay away. You’ve gotta promise me.”

“I promise,” Dani sighs, relieved. “Is that exterminator a good one?”

Dani makes eye contact with Jamie. “The best.”

“Tell them to give that lousy wench a kick in the arse for me.”

“I will.”

“Dani? Keep yourself safe. Good friends are hard to find in Bly.”

Dani hangs up the phone, wondering dimly if that’s the last time she’ll talk to her only friend.

“He really cares for you,” Jamie says.

Dani walks over and brushes her lips across Jamie’s ear. “Jealous?”

“Never. I’ve seen what that leads to.” Jamie’s fingers hook into the belt loops of Dani’s jeans and pull her tight. “I think we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.” She tips her head toward the clock. “Two hours to spare until dark.”

“Thank God,” Dani says, kissing her neck. Her teeth find the place near Jamie’s jaw that she has discovered reliably weakens her knees.

“You _are_ trying to kill me,” Jamie breathes.

“What fun would that be?” Dani pulls the heavy zipper of the leather jacket down, lacing her hands underneath Jamie’s shirt and sinking her nails into the skin of her stomach. She cocks her head to the side at Jamie’s barely restrained groan. “I suppose I do enjoy tormenting you, just a little.”

There is something deliciously dark in the way Jamie looks at her. “And what about the other way around?”

“You torment me just standing there. But, if you mean on purpose…” Dani bites her lip, “yes, please.”

They barely make it upstairs, shoving the bedroom door open as Dani pushes Jamie in, a storm of fierce kissing and clothes being ripped off. “Don’t you dare be gentle,” Dani growls as she pulls Jamie on top of her on the bed. If it’s her last night on earth, she’s going to make up for lost time.

Jamie regards her with a look that would be frightening in any other context. “Careful what you wish for.” She moves over her, bare except for a t-shirt, and pins Dani’s wrists to the mattress. Her teeth sink into her collarbone, hard enough to leave a bruise. Dani’s gasp is an even mix of shock and pleasure. Jamie leans in to kiss her and then backs away at the brush of their lips, keeping her pinned. Each sensation is a tease that increases the tortured ache between her legs. Jamie smirks at her attempts to struggle, strong enough to easily resist. Another bite lands on Dani’s ribs, lips trailing up her side to her breast, the hot pleasure of lips and tongue caressing her nipple.

If this is her last time, Dani thinks, it was worth the wait.

Finally Jamie releases her wrists. She grabs hard on Dani’s hips, pushing them down and forcing her legs apart. Jamie’s lips brush the inside of her thighs, ever closer to where Dani is dying for them to go. She looks down to meet Jamie’s dark gaze, and knows what she wants.

Oh, yes. She’ll beg for it. “Jamie, please…”

Jamie puts a hand flat against Dani’s throbbing ache. “Who knew?” she says, voice silky and evil.

“Please,” Dani whimpers.

“I fuckin’ like the way you say that.”

“Oh God, please, Jamie…” Dani doesn’t recognize this side of herself, this hungry animal impulse that makes her plead.

Jamie slides an arm underneath Dani and flips her over. She pins her prone, fingers poised at her opening, her breath hot in her ear. “Ask me again.” Jamie grinds her hips into Dani’s ass, making the pulse between her legs grow to unbearable heights.

“Fuck me please, I want you in.” Dani arches up, willing that hand inside her. Her body is not her own, she’s on the end of puppet strings. She’ll crawl if Jamie commands her to, do any manner of filthy act just get what she wants.

Jamie holds her on the edge so long she could cry, and then with a sudden rush slams inside. Dani cries out into the sheets. Jamie is rough without crossing any lines, muttering dark and dirty things in her ear that make Dani so wet Jamie adds another finger. She fucks her, hard and steady, until that’s all that exists.

Jamie slips her other hand around Dani and up to her clit and laughs at the sudden stream of profanity leaving Dani’s lips. Dani meets her gaze over a shoulder with a dark grin. She reaches back and grabs Jamie’s flexing forearm, pulling her in even harder. Jamie whispers her own curse and increases the pace, until Dani is crying out in one long scream into the sheets, soaking everything around her in a way she didn’t know was possible.

Jamie’s voice is in her ear again, coaxing her over the edge. “Come for me baby, come on…”

Thirty seconds of those whispers is all it takes. Dani’s vision goes white, she reflexively yanks Jamie down against her as she comes. Dani’s climax breaks open in a torrent, twisting Jamie’s hand inside and seizing her body in wave after wave of sensation until she collapses against the bed.

She trembles, clutching the sheets and blinking. Jamie lies on top of her, stroking her hair softly. “You alright?”

Dani smiles at the contrast between the rough voice from a moment ago and the soft caress of the question. “More than alright.” She rolls over and wraps her legs around Jamie, who shakes a little herself. Dani puts a hand to her cheek. “Take your shirt off.”

Jamie closes her eyes against a flash of vulnerability. She leans in to Dani’s touch for a moment, then reaches back and pulls her shirt over her head.

Dani pulls her near, skin to skin, and kisses. The part with a little gasp when Dani’s hand wanders to find an impressive amount of wetness. Jamie’s eyes roll back with a groan. Dani moves her fingers in time as she rocks, murmuring her own dark encouragement in Jamie’s ear. Jamie leans in and starts thrusting, messy kisses and desperate hands grabbing like Dani is the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth.

Dani watches it build with sublime satisfaction, the pressure, the sounds, the way Jamie’s moans gets higher and higher. She never has, and maybe never will find anyone this addictingly hot again. That would be enough, but there’s something else when Jamie comes with a gasp, something tender and fragile in the way she holds her afterward.

“I’m glad I found you,” Dani whispers into her hair. The words come out on their own, unbidden, without regret. One positive of facing down death, Dani thinks: there’s no time for bullshit.

Jamie rises to her elbow. “This isn’t the end, Dani.”

Dani gives her best attempt at a smile. “Either way.”

Jamie touches her cheek. She speaks so softly, Dani almost misses it. “I was looking for you, too.”

Dani looks into her eyes until gravity dissolves again. They pull together in a rough kiss.

It’s different, this time: closer, clutching skin to skin in a tangle, unwilling to allow even an inch of space between them. She comes with Jamie’s mouth on hers. When the ecstasy fades, Jamie’s eyes simmer with a quiet fury.

“I’ll be in pieces before I let that thing touch you.”

Dani thinks of Jamie’s scar, the seriousness of that promise, and the gathering dark outside. A resolute acceptance solidifies in the core of the impending doom: she’s ready to fight.

“If it comes to that, we’re going down together.”

\--

“Wear this,” Jamie says, holding out the jacket. “It’ll help protect you.”

Dani shakes her head. “No way.”

“Who’s the boss around here, anyway? I’ve done this before, and I’ll be faster than you. You need it more than I do.” Jamie steps behind her and slips it over her shoulders. Dani gives a final look of protest but slips into its comforting weight. Jamie pulls the heavy zipper up.

She grins. “Now you look like a right badass.”

“What else do we need to do?”

“Survive eight hours.”

Dani laughs. “Great, I was thinking it was complicated or something.” She looks over their assortment of handmade weapons. “How long do we have, each time we injure her?”

“Not sure, it varies,” Jamie says, inspecting the sharpened broom handle. “For reference, I hacked off that Eye for Eye’s leg with a machete to get Rebecca out.” She sighs. “It regrew in 30 minutes.”

“And she’ll be worse every time.”

“Aye.”

They eat in silence on the floor; every chair has already been recruited to bar entry. Outside, Dani hears the rain begin again. She takes a breath and ties her hair back.

“Poppins?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you believe in an afterlife?”

Dani pauses. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t before, but seeing ghosts kind of confuses things.”

Jamie nods, sipping water. “Still don’t know what to think, after years of doing this.”

Dani looks at her. “I hope there isn’t.”

Jamie takes her hand. “Me, too.”

\--

Three unbearable hours pass, mostly spent under Jamie’s arm between her checking the preparations at regular intervals. The threat is starting to feel distant. Dani entertains absurd thoughts of a ghost taking the night off, or of Hannah bursting through the door, dusting her hands on her pants and asking where to send the bill.

Dani’s mid-yawn when a sharp crack sounds outside. They stand in unison. “That’s a blast cap trip wire,” Jamie says. “Put them around the lake so we would know.”

They move to the foyer.

“You remember what to do?” Jamie whispers. Dani nods. “She will say things, make you feel things. You’ve got to stay focused.”

Dani nods again. Great, a _talking_ monster.

She hears them, slow, squelching steps in the mud. She picks up the fire poker and grips it tight. Dani feels a hot sensation at the back of her ear.

_Danielle…_

She flinches, looking behind her. “Mom?”

Jamie touches her shoulder. “Focus, baby.”

Dani gives a crooked grin. “Only if you promise to keep calling me that.”

A crack of heat makes her flinch. _Danielle…_ She shakes her head against the voice, so close to her mother’s, and yet hollow. Dead.

 _You don’t know what you had with Eddie. You’ve wasted your life._ The burning sensation grows, until she feels like a curling iron hovers just above her skin. The voice changes, deepens. _You’re sick inside._

Dani grits her teeth. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” She hears another step, closer to the door.

 _I know what you said._ An irrational and sudden urge to cry hits Dani like a lightning bolt, a command to drop the fire poker and fall to her knees. _You killed him._ She covers her ear with a trembling hand, trying to block the intensifying burn. _I should never have let you be born._

Jamie watches her closely. “It isn’t real, Dani. What you’re feeling. Stay here, with me.”

Dani nods, but the sensation is rapidly overwhelming, a trojan horse carried in the words. _They’ll keep you away from the children forever. You’re a disgrace, an abomination, unnatural. Disgusting._ Crushing shame carried on her mother’s voice presses in from all around. She’s twelve again, caught writing love letters to a classmate. Twenty-nine, trying on a wedding dress and locking eyes with a seamstress. Sweat breaks out on her brow. _You’re sick._

“Fuck off,” she mutters. A low growl sounds from outside the door that rattles the floorboards. “Why don’t you come and get me, you piece of shit.” Jamie shoots her a cautionary look, but Dani keeps her eyes fixed to the door. “Or is a little silver too much for you?”

The door shudders with a sudden bang. There is the sharp sound of balloons popping and a high pitched shriek that abruptly cuts off the wave of dysphoria gripping Dani.

“Start your timers,” Jamie says with a smirk. The stink of chemical burn fills the air.

Dani lets out a breath. “I had no idea they could do shit like that.”

“Aye, bloody gaslighting is the worst bit, apart from the claws.”

“What is she saying to you?”

“That she’ll break my legs and make me watch while she rips you apart.” Dani touches Jamie’s arm, a swell of humility damping her fear. “We spend a lot of time preparing to block this sort of thing out. You can’t let her in or she’ll cripple you with your own terror.”

“I won’t.”

Jamie twirls the broomstick with practiced flair. “Doubt she’ll be trying to come through that door again.”

They wait. Jamie calls twenty five minutes when they hear a scraping on the east wall. They run to the wing, where the largest window is barricaded with the dining table and couch. Just as they round the corner a great slam shatters glass and sends the furniture sliding back a foot from the window. Jamie sprints across the room and shoves the couch forward. Dani drops the fire poker and puts her back to the table.

“Dani! Get away from the – ”Jamie’s shout is cut off by another crash, which sends Dani skidding across the floor and Jamie tumbling to the opposite wall. Dani slams her hands flat against the barrier and shoves it back against the window.

A claw the length of a butcher knife slices the wood like paper between her hands.

A last-second flinch saves her from having her skull split in half. The claw sails past in slow motion-she feels the wind of it on her cheek and a white hot sting as it slides over her left shoulder. Jamie’s hand closes around her collar and yanks her backward to the floor.

Jamie flies past and spears the end of the broomstick through the gap in the wood in a blink, sneering at the ear-piercing shriek. She struggles with the handle of the broomstick before yanking it back. The special sauce hisses and smokes, the tip of the spear burning away. Jamie peers through the gap again, hoping for another strike. She relaxes and then turns to Dani.

“Straight through the eye. Bet that’ll – ” Her breath catches and she throws the broomstick down with a clatter, falling to her knees beside Dani.

“I’m alright,” she says automatically. “It’s not bad.”

Jamie works the jacket off her shoulders, slowing to pull it delicately over the left side. A warm gush erupts down Dani’s arm as the leather comes free. She lifts her hand and watches blood drip from her fingertips in detached amazement. Jamie rips her shirt open wider.

“We’ve gotta stop the bleeding.” Dani stares at the gaping wound, dazed. Her shoulder muscle flops to the side like a deli cut, shockingly red against the white of her skin. Jamie strips off her flannel and then the t-shirt beneath. She knicks the fabric on a knife from her belt and tares it into long strips, threading the fabric under Dani’s armpit. She stretches one tight to pull the wound closed and then folds another into a 2-inch strip.

“That was such a soft shirt,” Dani mutters, entranced by the blood pooling on the floor. “Really should use something else…”

Warm hands cup Dani’s face and bring her gaze to meet Jamie’s. “I have to make this tight. It’s going to hurt. A lot.”

Dani nods mechanically. “Ok.”

She wraps her good arm around Jamie’s bare back and holds her breath. The cinch of the first knot feels like a dagger twisting in her flesh. Dani cries out through gritted teeth.

Jamie makes a windlass from a piece broken table and places it on top of the knot. “You ready?” Dani nods, tears dripping from her nose. Jamie kisses her ear. “I’m sorry.” She twists the stake, pulling the tourniquet tighter with each turn. Waves of pain crash into a nausea that wrings Dani like a rag from the inside out. She screams into Jamie’s shoulder, sobbing between the turns. “One more, one more,” Jamie says, voice breaking. The trail of blood down Dani’s arm grows cold after the last twist. Jamie ties off the tourniquet and makes a sling, lifting it gingerly into place under her elbow.

Jamie lets out a shaky breath and pulls Dani into a tight embrace. Dani whimpers against her, hand leaving bloody smears across her skin. Jamie runs to the kitchen and returns with a pitcher of water. “Drink this. Drink as much as you can.”

Dani almost vomits, but does as she’s told. She downs three glasses and raises her eyes to the barricaded window. “What now?”

“That won’t hold.” Jamie checks her watch, buttoning her flannel back up. “Five minutes until we can expect her up.” She squats under Dani’s good arm and lifts her to her feet, where she sways a little before nodding.

“I’m ok, I can stand.”

Jamie sharpens the broomstick with quick swipes of her knife and saturates the end with the final splash of Special Sauce. “She gets through me, stick her with this.” She throws the remaining supplies in a duffel and tosses it onto the stairs. Jamie picks up a salt bomb in one hand and the woodcutting axe mid-shaft in the other.

“What are you going to do?”

Jamie fixes her glare on the barricade. “Stay behind me, no matter what.”

A hiss runs up the back of Dani’s neck, pure boiling hatred rising behind the wall. Minutes pass, eternal and quiet.

The table shatters as a claw punches through. Bladed fingers crunch into the wood frame of the couch and toss it aside like a toy. It crashes into the wall and explodes, sending pieces of wood and feathers raining down around them. The Lady of the Lake steps inside.

There are no eyes in her featureless face, just an oozing hole where Jamie’s spear ran home. Still Dani can feel its hateful gaze turn upon her. Glistening white protrusions burst from the end of rotting fingers. Bone, Dani realizes. Acrid stench fills the air from her skin, still smoking and deformed from the balloon trap.

 _Danielle, come here._ Dani winces. _Give Eddie a kiss, baby._

Jamie cages Dani in behind her, moving slowly in a half circle away from the monster as she advances on them.

 _Danielle Clayton, will you marry me?_ Pain sears through her adrenaline, as if someone digs their finger into the gash. Eddie’s hand presses on her shoulder, firmer until she stumbles. _Prettiest girl in Waterloo. We’re gonna have a family together. We’ll always be together._

Dani squeezes her eyes shut and pushes back against the invader, squirming like a parasite in her mind.

“Jamie – ”

“Hang in there, Poppins,” Jamie says. “We’ve got to waste time. Have to hold out on knocking her down until the last second.” The Lady of the Lake fixes her eyeless gaze on Jamie. “Oy! How’s that new eye socket working for ya?”

An arm sweeps out, missing her by inches. The second swing cuts a gash through the wall like it was made of clay. Its head snaps toward Dani, who backs up toward the kitchen. Jamie cuts in front, arms waving. “Didn’t say I was done with you, filthy wench.”

The monster lunges so close to her that for a split second, Dani thinks it’s over. Jamie dodges a hair’s breadth clear of the attack. The Lady of the Lake steps forward faster, cornering her. Dani props the spear against the wall and picks up a couch leg on the floor. She throws it into the back of the monster, where it thunks as if it’s struck cement.

“Hey! Thought it was me you wanted!”

 _Danielle, what are you saying?_ She shivers off the image, the passenger seat of the car in the rain. The creature turns on her slowly. Dani smells Eddie’s blood on the ground. _Why are you doing this to me?_ This time she’s ready, and throws a wall up between her and the voice. _I hate you!_

Suddenly the monster moves with speed. Dani barely has time to duck through the entrance to the kitchen before the doorframe splinters. She skids to a stop on the tile, putting the kitchen island between them.

Dani hurls a cast iron pan, which bounces harmlessly off its chest. The Lady of the Lake seizes the butcher block island, which rips from the floor with a crack. Hundreds of pounds of solid maple screech across the floor toward her. There’s nowhere to go; Dani screams as the distance closes; she’ll be crushed against the wall in seconds.

An explosion lights up in a billow of orange fire. The monster releases the island and squeals, clawing frantically at the flames covering its back. When it turns, Dani sees the sickly white skin disintegrating, maggot filled organs and muscles rippling beneath.

Jamie makes a running leap into the kitchen, sliding under flailing arms. The blade of the axe makes a sickening thunk as it connects with a knee. Jamie rips it back and dodges a roaring swipe. The joint gives way and the beast collapses awkwardly to one side. Jamie brings down the axe on her other leg, severing foot from ankle. A final blow buries the blade squarely in the Lady’s forehead.

The beast goes limp, collapsing in a heap of sparks. The axe smokes and dissolves, showing the cleaved skull underneath.

“Help me!” Jamie yells, yanking on the island. They strain against the weight, Dani crying out in pain. Finally the island tips with a groan and crash-lands on top of the ghoul.

Jamie drags Dani by the sleeve. “Upstairs, come on.” She snatches the duffel bag and spear and supports her around the waist as they climb to the second floor. She shuts the reinforced bedroom door, double locks it, and together they grunt against the weight of the massive teak dresser, pushing it in flush against the doorframe. Jamie drags the bed in front of it for good measure and collapses against the wall next to Dani, panting.

Dani shivers. “How long to regrow a head?”

“I dunno, but it’s probably the longest break we’ll get.” Jamie grabs the comforter from the bed and wraps it around her. “You’re pale,” she says, touching her cheek.

“D-don’t get a lot of sun here in Bly.”

Jamie shakes her head and pulls a canteen from the bag. “Drink.”

The water is cool and calming, but Dani’s mouth is still dry when the bottle is empty. “Your hands,” she says, turning over Jamie’s blistered palm.

Jamie sighs. “There’s a good reason you don’t see us carryin’ anything but silver.”

Dani nestles her head in the crook of Jamie’s neck. “What’s next?”

“Hold out here as long as we can. Then it’s Plan B.”

“Last stand,” Dani mutters. The back of her arm is wet with blood that oozes slowly from the gash. Jamie presses in, pulling the blanket tighter. Through the iron tinge of blood and sulfuric haze, Dani catches a whiff of cedar and vanilla.

“Hey,” she says, drowsy. “I wanna know something.”

“Mm?”

“What’s your middle name?

Jamie grins. “Marie.”

Dani chuckles. “Jamie Marie Taylor.”

Jamie nuzzles her eyebrow. “What yours? Dani Leigh? Dani Ann?”

“You’ll never guess. Danielle Gloria Clayton.”

“Gloria?”

“Dad was a big Patti Smith fan. He wanted to name me that, but Mom never let him.”

“Thank God.”

Dani laughs weakly. “Thank God. Only favor she ever did for me.” Her shivering slows. Waves of pain rocket down her arm to her fingertips, which buzz with tiny electric shocks.

Jamie strokes her hair. “Rest, darling.”

Dani snorts. “Fat chance, Jamie Marie.” But she feels it already, the heavy exhaustion dragging her eyelids down. Her heart’s distant thudding and the encroaching headache make Dani wonder how much blood she’s lost. She’s too tired to dwell on it. Jamie is warm, her voice near and soothing, whispering her to sleep.

\--

Dani gasps. Jamie sits up with her as she startles awake. “Whoa, easy Poppins.”

Dani looks around, confusion fading. “How long?”

“Two and a half hours.” Jamie smiles. “We did a real number on the ol’ wretch.” Her brow furrows. “How are you feeling?”

Dani tries to swallow. Her mouth is paper dry. She realizes with a sinking feeling that she can no longer move the fingers of her left hand. “I’m ok.”

“You’re not a good liar.”

Dani scoots with Jamie’s help until her back rests against the wall. “It’s a shame,” she croaks. “I was gonna keep that jacket.”

Jamie cocks an eyebrow. “Suppose I don’t have a say in that at all.”

“None whatsoever.”

Jamie brushes the back of her hand along Dani’s cheek. “You’ll get to wear it again.”

Dani fingers her flannel, stiff with blood. Her throat contracts with a sudden wash of tears. “You should run. You should go. You could make it out of here before she wakes up.”

Jamie’s gaze is serene. “You know I won’t.”

“It’ll be satisfied if it gets me. Jamie – ”

“Sorry Poppins, that’d be a breach of contract. Says right on page five, ‘In the event of a white-class apparition, the Haunted shall at all times be accompanied by an associate until the appropriate resources are acquired.’”

Dani sniffs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Not the first time it’s been pointed out.” Jamie brushes a tear from her cheek and pulls her gently to rest in her arms.

They sit in silence, Jamie tracing shapes along Dani’s skin. “The rain stopped,” she whispers.

“Always does before dawn.”

Dani looks up, expecting Jamie’s resilient optimism. Jamie kisses her, softer and gentler than Dani’s ever felt. There is a sad tranquility to it, an eye of acceptance in the hurricane will to survive. Dani takes a long even breath, pulling from the last of her strength.

Her eyes slip to Jamie’s neck. Strength, she thinks dimly. A tingling envelops her right arm. How much pressure does it take to crush a windpipe? Could she do it quickly, before Jamie had a chance to resist? It could be better than what awaits them. A favor, even.

“Jamie,” she whispers.

“What is it, Poppins?”

“She’s awake.” The sound of debris falling echoes from downstairs. Dani brushes a brown curl from Jamie’s cheek. “Last stand.”

Jamie smiles. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

She helps Dani to her feet and sets out the last of their supplies: two salt bombs, the kerosene blowtorch, and the sharpened broomstick, now a foot shorter. Jamie slings the propane torch over Dani’s good shoulder and hefts the broomstick with a smile. “Time to give our Lady one last warm welcome.”

Dani leans against the wall, looking at the salt bomb in her hand. “Push and toss,” she repeats.

“You ready?”

“Ready.”

A crash sounds from the kitchen island being thrown aside. The steps come in heavy procession up the stairs. Jamie rocks back and forth in her boots, humming a vaguely familiar tune. Dani turns the salt bomb slowly in her hand, stillness settling in her heart.

Neither of them flinch when the first impact makes the door shudder on its hinges. Dani looks on for ten minutes, almost bored as the ghoul shreds her way methodically through the solid wood door, the boards they nailed in place, and claws at the heavy dresser. The Lady has grown by feet; she has to stoop to reach into the room, swinging claws like scythes.

The dresser starts to fracture, splintering and popping in the assault. A few more swipes and she’ll be in. Jamie lets out a sharp whistle and tosses her salt bomb through the gap. It explodes with a bang, knocking the creature back a step. When the sparks clear Dani sees her bottom jaw on the floor, the blackened sneer of her teeth protruding from a mutilated face. The Lady lets out a blood curdling hiss and charges forward again.

Jamie turns to Dani with her crooked grin. Even now, covered in ash and blood, Dani has time to think Jamie is the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. “Wish me luck, Poppins.”

Jamie makes a running start, leaps over the bedframe and pins a flailing claw to the dresser with her boot. Dani screams and reaches out, too slow. Jamie strikes forward with the broomstick in the same moment the ghoul’s hand rips from under her like a rug. The point of the spear rams through her gaping maw and bursts from the base of her neck as Jamie goes airborne. The Lady claws wildly at her face, broomstick disappearing in an acidic cloud of smoke.

Jamie crashes into the wall and lands in a still heap at Dani’s feet. On instinct, Dani kneels and grabs her arm. She flops limply, a trickle of blood running from her eyebrow.

The dresser gives way with a crack. Dani stands in a rush of rage. She clicks the cap on the salt bomb and chucks it with a yell.

Hissing flashes creep up the beast’s chest as she clambers over the debris. Dani hitches the blowtorch up onto her hip and flicks the valve. “Fuck you!” A spray of propane meets the sparks and ignites in a blast of heat.

Liquid blue flames envelop the Lady of the Lake, catching the walls in a growing blaze. The monster falls back into the hallway shrieking. Dani advances, painting the flames head to toe, willing the beast to ash with a battle cry.

“Jamie! Get up!” She kicks Jamie’s boot frantically with her heel. “Come on!” Jamie’s eyes flutter open. She struggles to her knees, clutching the side of her head.

The propane canister sputters. The monster retreats until she’s clear of the stream of fire, hair crackling in the flames. “Jamie, get up!” Jamie shakes her head, puts her hand to the wall, and stands up drunkenly.

The propane canister goes out with a puff and the Lady of the Lake roars, burning skin dripping from arms still enveloped in flames. Dani throws the canister aside, flings the window open and yanks Jamie through.

They step onto the second story roof. Jamie’s dazed eyes flash with terror in the frigid air. “I wasn’t exactly plannin’ on you missing an arm.” A bedsheet rope swings in the wind, anchored to a gutter and disappearing over the edge. A clattering comes from behind them; the monster’s smoking claws grip the edge of the window.

“Hang on to me, tight as you can!” Jamie wraps the sheet in her hands and stands at the edge of the roof. Dani makes the mistake of peering over; it’s 20 feet to the ground. She reaches around Jamie and grabs her numb left wrist, crying out with a jolt of pain searing from her shoulder.

There’s no other choice; Jamie slips off the edge as the monster comes bursting out of the window. Dani feels the elevator drop of open space below as they slide down the wet sheet. Jamie breaks their fall for a precious second before she loses her grip. Their screams are cut short with the force of the impact, Jamie landing hard beneath her in the wet dirt.

Dani sees the monster stop at the edge of the roof. It turns and disappears back inside.

“Jamie, we gotta go. Now.”

Dani scrambles to her feet. Jamie tries to stand and collapses with a yelp as her ankle bends in a sickening direction.

Dani kneels and grabs for her arm, but Jamie swats her away with a desperate look. “You’ve gotta run, Poppins. You gotta go.”

Dani laughs, the defiant cackle of a captain going down with the ship. She sweeps underneath Jamie and pulls her upright, throwing one arm under her shoulder like they’re good friends leaving a pub. “Like hell." She pulls her tight and starts off before Jamie has a chance to protest.

The way forks – left to town, the other toward the sea cliffs. Dani takes a right, shivering with the effort. The wind has calmed. Mirrored puddles along the grassy plain reflect growing light in the silver sky. Jamie starts humming again, then singing softly in her lilting accent:

I open up my door to greet the early morning sun

Closing it behind me and away I do run

To the meadow where the meadow lark is singing in the tree

In the meadow I go walking in the early morning breeze

Dani feels the monster’s satisfied hiss at the back of her ear, ever closer. “Would’ve n-never pegged you as a Dolly Parton fan,” she stutters.

Jamie smiles through a wince of pain. “I contain multitudes.”

“Would have liked to learn them all.” Dani stumbles, strength waning. Jamie pulls her back into stride, kissing her cheek.

The rim of the island is before them; a mist hovers where the grass ends abruptly to the sound of crashing waves below. Dani had always avoided walking where one of her predecessors plunged to her death. Now that she that she’s here, she admits it’s a beautiful place to die.

They make it to the edge, Dani wheezing and Jamie dragging her broken foot along the soft earth. They peer down to the rocks below, rimmed white with ocean foam.

“Even if we survive the fall,” Jamie says, “we’ll freeze to death in minutes.”

Dani glances over her shoulder to the approaching shadow behind them. “Doesn’t s-sound so bad, I guess.” Jamie grins. Trembling with exhaustion and cold, in the worst pain of her life, she still has the ability to make Dani’s heart skip a beat.

“I’m sorry that this happened, but…” Jamie touches her face with a burned hand. “I’m glad it’s with you.”

Dani presses her forehead to Jamie’s. She can hear heavy steps approaching over the sound of the ocean. They’ll step from the edge, gasp under frigid waves. It’ll be over soon.

“Jamie…”

A vibration fills her chest. Dani pushes back with the last of her will, angry that the ghoul would try to steal this final moment. But she’s helpless to it; the vibration gathers to a roar, deafening every sound. The wind kicks up again, spraying salty water around them. Dani strength fails: Jamie is pulling her to the ground in the gale, shielding her from flying debris.

The helicopter roars over the cliff behind them, banking into a hairpin turn. Its twin rotors miss the ground by inches, sending a wave of wet earth thundering toward the Lady of the Lake. The ghoul charges forward to no avail; the rotor wash blasts her backward and Dani loses sight of her in the tall grass.

The helicopter rights itself, touching down a hundred yards away. Two dark shapes leap from the open fuselage. One takes off at a sprint toward them. Dani keeps her eyes on the second. It’s Hannah, hefting a massive tube like a battering ram. In the growing light Dani sees the glint of wires drifting down from her temples. The roar dies and the helicopter engines spin to a halt.

A clear tone fills the air, an otherworldly bell that grows in volume until there is nothing else. Rebecca skids to a to a stop in front of her, mouthing words Dani can’t hear. She feels the vague pressure of hands on numb skin. She’s cold, so very cold.

Hannah strides through the grass, _The Breadmaker_ shining in the rising sun. The Lady of the Lake stands and races toward her with incredible speed.

The ringing cuts to an ear-splitting pitch, a diamond blade that slices through everything. Dani screams with it. The wavelengths permeate every atom, as if the very fabric of space will shatter.

A tare rips through the mist with a sonic boom, a rift beyond which blackness steals the light. The monster slows, turning toward the abyss curiously. Dani hears a child’s voice calling beyond the veil, sweet and beseeching. Hannah advances on her, laser focus unyielding.

The Lady of the Lake takes a hesitating step toward the edge. She reaches out gently, ghastly talons drifting. Dani’s chest aches with two hundred years of yearning, of returning after a long journey. Walking up the steps, catching the scent of bread in the oven. A child’s voice welcoming her home. She blinks water from her eyes. A woman stands in place of the hulking monster, not much older than Dani herself, white dress fluttering in the breeze. She smiles radiant joy and runs forward into the blackness. Hannah twists the machine and the rift disappears with a crack.

People in fatigues are running toward them. Jamie is there, yelling something at Rebecca, clutching Dani close. Dani finds her green eyes, reads the words _hang on._

Strong arms lift her onto the stretcher and into the helicopter. The engines rumble to life, lifting them from the earth in a cacophony of wind. Bly Manor swings into view below, smoke and flames billowing from its roof. Dani watches it shrink smaller and smaller before disappearing into mist.

Jamie is there. She can see her through the encroaching tunnel vision, desperate and frightened. Don’t worry, Dani wants to say. I’m not cold anymore.

Her fingers slacken. The hard board beneath her becomes inexplicably soft, the firestorm of pain in her shoulder grows ever more distant. Dani closes her eyes.

There should be nothing but the darkness of her eyelids, but she’s back in the fuselage next to Jamie. _Hey_ , she tries to say, reaching out.

A shock travels up her arm like a live wire. Dani reels from the helplessness of Jamie’s panic coursing through her own veins, her hot tears as she searches for a pulse and screams for help. Dani understands suddenly; she sees herself lying there. Rather, what she used to be. People crowd around her body. She turns from them, looking beyond.

The veil opens before her.

It’s mesmerizing: an endless plain where heat and cold are the same, where the trying of existence stands still. It would be easy to cross over, she knows. As easy as stepping from a cliff or breathing water. She’d be welcome there. No pain, no fear.

The sacred scenes of life play by, times she felt completely home, when the connection of all things wrapped her in warm threads of belonging. Her father’s embrace, driving through the cornfields in her first car, Jamie’s forehead pressed to hers. An infinite wellspring of gratitude and beauty.

The bell rings again, not a sound but a force, material and immaterial, light and the absence of it. The tone cuts through, uniting all the moments of her life. Dani knows: there is no belonging: nothing outside of it exists. It is all that ever was. She was always home.

Dani smiles. She’ll see this place again. Decades from now, when the time is right, she’ll cross over followed by the murmurs of her beloved, pulled by the awe of infinity to the other side. But not yet. She steps back from the edge.

The peaceful blackness of space descends. Dani rests, a tiny string anchoring her will to solid ground. Somewhere faraway she hears the echoing command: _hang on_.


	2. Chapter 2

The sheets feel scratchy.

That’s the first thing she thinks. Cold, crisp, and scratchy. Not the softness of her old cotton set or the warmth of arms wrapped around her on a couch.

Her eyelids flutter open. A bag of fluid hangs on a stand, the clear tube snaking down and disappearing into her right arm. Actually, there are a lot of bags hanging there, marked with words that may as well be hieroglyphics. A few chairs line the wall.

And a person.

Dani sits up, willing her eyes to focus. A searing pain ignites in her left arm. She grabs for it, hazily registering the complicated sling. The figure presses her back into the pillows with a gentle hand.

“Easy, easy, it’s not who you want,” Rebecca says with a warm smile. Dani frowns at her, confused. “They finally drug her off yesterday for surgery. She wouldn’t leave your side until a nurse took her to task, yellin’ that she could lose the foot. Taylor made me promise to stay in her place.”

Dani slowly takes in the hospital room. Its sparsely furnished, nothing fancy. Classic NHS. Thank God, Dani thinks, she’s not in an American hospital. Her voice comes out in a gravelly squeak. “How long was I out?”

“Few days…” Rebecca gets an uncomfortable look. “You, eh, died.” She waves away Dani’s look of alarm. “Not all the way! Just sort of, your heart stopped for a bit.” She snaps her fingers. “But they shocked you back like that!” Dani blinks, not at all reassured. “You lost a lot of blood, and you were hypothermic. They said actually the cold saved you. Preserved you, like.”

“Well, that’s good at least,” Dani says with a cough. “How is she?”

“Taylor? Fine. Right as rain. Complete pain in the arse, as always.” Rebecca struggles with something for a moment, and covers her face with a hand. Her sudden emotion is nearly more shocking to Dani than learning she was recently dead.

Rebecca clears her throat and blinks back tears. “Listen, uh, thanks for saving my mate.”

Dani shakes her head. “Jamie did all the saving."

“Catch on! She told us all about your heroics. Fighting a bloody white-class with your arm hanging by a scrap!” She grins. “That bit with the flamethrower was especially good. Very Sigourney Weaver of you, darling.” Rebecca slaps her leg through the blankets.

She registers the wince and cringes apologetically. “Push that button there, it’ll give you a shot of the good shit.” She glances around and gives a wink. “I may’ve popped it for you a few times, while you were under.”

Dani picks up the single red button on a cord leading to one of the IV pumps. She chuckles. “I can see why you’re Jamie’s best friend.”

“Dani, can I ask you something?” Rebecca asks, serious.

“Of course.”

“Did you hear it?”

Dani blinks. “Did I hear what?”

“The siren.”

Dani shakes her head. “I was pretty out. I don’t remember the ambulance at all.”

“No,” Rebecca leans in. “Not an emergency siren. The Siren. _The Breadmaker’s_ echo.”

A strange sensation settles as she remembers the bell’s ring, higher in pitch until it ruptured the world. A flash image of Hannah, enveloped in its golden tone. She can hear it still, as if it vibrates somewhere in the bones of her skull. Rebecca’s brown eyes are bright and wonderous.

“You heard it, didn’t you? You were screaming. I thought you were just hurt but then I saw you watching Hannah, and I…” She laughs incredulously. “Oh my God! You fucking _saw_ it, didn’t you? Wait’ll Hannah hears this.”

Dani’s mind begins to clear, and she is about to let loose with a million questions when a door opens. Rebecca glances over her shoulder, gives a coy look, and disappears. Dani struggles up in bed.

A nurse walks in backward, pulling a wheelchair carefully into the room. Jamie is in tow, looking haggard and pale in a hospital gown and a boot cast, dark circles under bloodshot eyes. The weathered nurse gives Dani a wry look. “This one refused bed rest today. Thought I’d never hear the end of it if I kept her there.” She grins in the silence. “Looks like all’s well now.” The door closes behind her with a click.

Dani moves as fast as she can with her frozen left arm, stripping the covers away and clumsily navigating her IV tubing.

“No, no!” Jamie calls, holding her hands up. She wheels up next to the bed on Dani’s right side. “Don’t move.” She sets the brakes on the wheelchair and gingerly balances on one foot, wobbling and wincing before sliding into bed. Jamie reaches for her and freezes, anxiously looking for injuries. “Are you…can I…”

Dani nods; she can’t speak. Jamie puts her hands to Dani’s cheeks so softly she could be made of glass. Dani waits long enough to be sure it’s real and smiles.

“Hi.”

Jamie’s eyes light up with an entire second of sublime joy before she bursts into tears. Dani holds her as tight as she can with one arm, overcome with her own relief. Jamie sobs against her for a moment before becoming conscious of Dani’s state again, gently pawing over her as if to count the limbs.

“I’m ok, I’m alright,” Dani laughs, sniffing.

“Like fucking hell you are,” Jamie growls between wiping her eyes. She fumbles for the bed remote and inclines the back. “Lie down.”

Dani does as she’s told; it’s excruciating to sit up. Every movement requires enormous effort, her heart jumping against her ribcage like she’s run a marathon. A few minutes pass before Jamie composes herself enough to speak. “You…I didn’t think you were…”

Dani kisses her nose. “Rebecca told me.”

Jamie takes a shaky grounding breath. “Well?”

“Well what?”

A twinkle lights in her eyes, her old self showing through the exhaustion. “Is there an afterlife?”

Dani feels her gaze grow distant. Jamie’s features wash over in concern. “You alright, Poppins?”

“It’s…there’s no _this_ life.” Jamie blinks like she’s considering calling a nurse. “I saw…” Dani trails off. “Jamie, what’s a Siren?”

Jamie’s eyes widen. Dani winces at a spike of pain and shivers; she’s so tired it’s hard to even keep her eyes open. “Rest,” Jamie whispers, smoothing Dani’s hair. She picks up the IV remote and pushes the red button. Dani hears the click and whir of the pump dole out something that makes her no longer care about the raging inferno in her shoulder. Jamie watches her face and chuckles.

“Better?”

The room spins and Dani closes her eyes. “Stay.”

Jamie’s lips brush her eyebrow. “I’m not going anywhere.”

\--

“Poppins.”

“Dolly Parton,” Dani murmurs.

“’Scuse me?”

“ _You_ were singing Dolly Parton.” She opens her eyes to Jamie in the wheelchair, arms leaned over the edge of her hospital bed.

“Is that some sort of comment on me as a person?”

Dani gives a lop-sided grin, still drugged. “Facing certain death, I never would have said in a million years that Jamie Taylor would reach for the Queen of Country.”

Jamie gives her a simmering smile that implies a whole host of revenge is waiting as soon as she recovers. “Dani, Dr. Glenn is here to see you.”

Dani turns her head to see not one doctor, but two standing behind Jamie. “Oh,” she slurs. “Hey there, Doc.”

The eldest smiles and sits at the bedside to her left. “I see the morphine has been keeping you comfortable.”

Dani gives a drunk giggle. “I dunno if comfortable is the right word.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Oh, Hell yeah.” She meet’s Jamie’s concerned look with a smile. “Funny thing is, I don’t care in the slightest.”

The doctor nods. “Then it’s working. We need to examine your arm.”

“Oh, shit.”

Dr. Glenn chuckles. “Yes, thought you’d say something to that effect.” He produces a small syringe. “This will compound the action of the morphine if you experience too much discomfort. Just say the word and I can put it in your IV.”

“What do you need to do?”

“You’ve suffered a pretty serious injury, Ms. Clayton. We repaired the severed arteries and closed the wound when you got here, but there was some concern that your nerves were cut. If so, we may need to do surgery to restore some motor control of your arm.”

The Dr. Glenn’s sidekick gingerly begins unclipping the sling. Jamie scoots the wheelchair closer and interlaces their fingers. She looks even more nervous than Dani feels imagining life without a left arm.

The two men work together, doing their best to support Dani’s arm while they remove layers of bandages. Dr. Glenn offers the syringe multiple times. “Take it,” Jamie says, brows knitted.

Dani shakes her head. Being awake feels crystalline, precious. She’d rather be drug through glass than miss a moment of this second life.

After much deep breathing and squeezing Jamie’s hand to the brink of fracture, the bandages come free. Dr. Glenn eases her arm down until it is outstretched. Dani whimpers, staring fiercely at the ceiling. He pats her leg. “I know it’s not much comfort, but I’d be much more worried if you weren’t having pain at all.”

The two physicians spend a few moments murmuring about the laceration. When the waves of pain subside, Dani sneaks a look: a crusted half moon of angry red, brought together in Frankenstein fashion with dozens of sutures. A plastic drain tube juts from the bottom of the wound like a broken Slurpee straw. Jamie groans and puts her head down.

“Are you,” Dani snickers through a grimace, “more bothered by this than I am?”

Jamie shoots her a defensive scowl. “It’s different when it’s someone you – ” she takes a breath, “someone you care about.”

Dani ignores the presence of two strangers and luxuriates in those green eyes; she needs all the distraction she can get. “What will Hannah say when she finds out you have a crush on the client?”

“So what?” Jamie winks. “No policy against it, far as I know.”

Dr. Glenn clears his throat. “Excuse me, Ms. Clayton, but I need your attention here.” He meets her eyes. “Can you wiggle your fingers?” For a second, Dani freezes, afraid to know if she’ll spend the rest of her life with a useless limb. The doctors watch her with rapt attention. “Ms. Clayton, wiggle your fingers.”

She takes a deep breath, and imagines closing her fingers. Nothing happens. Jamie rubs her right arm and leans into her ear. “It’s alright. Focus, baby.”

Dani stares at her hand, and wills with all her might. Her middle finger twitches, and then as if they’re waking up, the other fingers move slowly into a loose claw. Dr. Glenn smiles. “Very good!” He reaches down and touches Dani’s palm. “Do you feel that?”

“I feel…” Dani frowns. “The warmth. But not the pressure.”

He produces a paperclip and jabs it gently into the skin of her fingers and palm. “Can you feel that?” The sensation is strange, like watching someone prod a wax hand that isn’t hers. Each time he asks the question, and each time she shakes her head sadly.

“Give it time,” he says to her, and Jamie, who looks crestfallen. “Broken nerves can regrow. It’s just a very slow process.”

They replace the bandage and the sling, and bid them farewell. Dani flexes her fingers and relaxes them again, watching with somber curiosity.

Jamie hasn’t let go of her hand. “Alright, Poppins?”

It seems a small loss after a narrow escape from total dismemberment, and yet she still feels it. “I’m ok.” Jamie raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Dani glances down to her lips, amazed there was ever a time she didn’t just say what was on her mind. “I need both hands for what I want to do to you when we get out of here.”

Jamie’s pupils swell. She leans in and brushes her lips across Dani’s. “I guess,” she whispers, “you’ll have to use your mouth.”

The stress, dregs of morphine, and remnants of fiery pain are no match for that one sentence. Dani kisses Jamie so hard she rolls backward an inch in the wheelchair. They make out for two blissful minutes before the door opens again.

Rebecca grins. “Seriously, in a hospital? Kinky shit.”

Hannah strides in and whacks her with a backhand that looks so practiced its almost automatic. “Forgive my Inspector, Dani. How are you feeling?”

“I’m great,” Dani says, smiling.

“You most certainly are not,” Hannah says, sliding a chair up beside Jamie. Dani balks, wondering if she’s about to get censured for kissing the Scrubber. Hannah sets down a briefcase. “You nearly lost an arm, not to mention your life. Tell me about Henry Wingrave.”

“The administrator? He hired me…I didn’t deal with him much besides that.”

Hannah exudes fury that would make a general sweat. Jamie and Rebecca seem to have shrunk several sizes. “And what exactly did he tell you about the previous teachers and the position?”

“He had that album I gave you. The news clippings. Said that the island was a lonely place and the last teacher had drowned herself after a divorce. That the locals were suspicious and told a lot of ghost stories, and to ignore them.”

Hannah’s jaw flexes as she pulls papers from the exquisite leather briefcase. “I suppose he wouldn’t have mentioned that a coroner determined Ms. Highsmith’s cause of death wasn’t drowning at all.” She tosses the autopsy report on the bed.

Dani picks it up and reads slowly. “Traumatic asphyxiation from laryngeal fracture.”

Rebecca swears softly. “Throat was crushed.”

Dani meets Hannah’s hard gaze. “You were the perfect hire. A foreigner, who wouldn’t have known any better. I spoke to a slew of instructors local to the area. They all knew about the deaths at Bly, none would take the job. The posting was up for months.”

Rebecca scoffs. “Why wouldn’t he have come clean, when the first one died? Just hired an outfit and be done with it?”

Hannah shakes her head. “I don’t know. Perhaps the first two really did commit suicide-but not by fault of the island.” Dani shudders, recalling the hollow voice torturing her mind. “But the last were suspicious enough to report. The coroner flagged Ms. Highsmith, but lo and behold, a rope was discovered in the cellar and Mr. Wingrave filed an addendum attesting he discovered a suicide note, that she hung herself unsuccessfully and crawled to the lake.”

Dani rubs her face. “How is it possible that this situation just keeps getting darker.”

“Why?” Jamie’s hands ball into fists. “What’s in it for him?”

Rebecca tilts her head. “More like, what’s in that lake?” She looks at Dani. “White-class PM. The crew that came in, first thing they would have done is drain the lake. Get her out in the daylight, where _The Breadmaker_ could make short work of her.”

“We’ll know soon enough. I’ve already filed a report with MPA.” Hannah’s expression softens. “They’ll have many questions for you in particular, Dani.”

Dani glances between the three of them, confused. “Is it because I’m American?”

Hannah laughs, a welcome sound after her simmering fury. “It’s got nothing to do with tea in the harbor, dear. The Ministry of Paranormal Affairs is bound by law to investigate every white-class event.” Hannah tilts her head, curious. “I also have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

“There are many levels to this industry. I’m an Operator, which is the top of private practice capabilities. Years of training are involved to develop the discipline to be able to do what we do. It’s a very tight group. We used to rely on chance to recruit people, word-of-mouth. Nowadays there are schools, applications. But there is one level above Operator which still relies on chance. A level which very few achieve.” She leans forward, eyes alight. “You heard it. You heard the Siren.”

Dani sees something in Hannah’s eyes different from Rebecca’s awestruck wonder: common ground.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Tell me what you saw.”

Dani opens her mouth to speak, closes it again. She looks down at her numb hand. How can she describe the plain, peeking over the event horizon of a dead star, a place where nothing can be grounded in the known? A serpent eating its tail, infinity before a mind that can barely comprehend 100. The truth, she discovers, sounds like poetic gibberish.

“I saw a place where matter is emptiness. Where…” she swallows, wondering if they’ll all run from the room when she’s finished. “Where the light and the dark are one. And I knew that before me was an edge, and if I stepped over I would fall. I would fall forever and see…”

Hannah reaches out and takes her hand. “You would see it all, back to the beginning of all things. But…?”

Dani could cry with relief at the recognition in Hannah’s eyes. “But this _is_ the beginning.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Rebecca says softly.

Jamie looks both frightened and awestruck. “How is this possible, Hannah?”

Hannah doesn’t take her eyes off Dani’s. “You’ve seen in an instant what it takes most committed Seekers a decade to achieve.”

“Because I died?”

Hannah smiles. “Oh, if it were that easy. No, Dani. There is something special about you. I suspect it is why you attracted such a strong white-class event in the first place.”

It’s hard not to laugh at the idea. Since when has she been gifted at anything that didn’t involve getting kids to sit still for an hour? Until a few days ago, Dani hadn’t thought she possessed much at all but an unrelenting sense of cowardice and shame. Then Jamie arrived.

“What makes me different?”

“What is special about anyone who sees through the illusions of our world? If we knew, I suspect humanity would be in a much better place.”

Dani shakes her head slowly. “I’m not a superhero. I’m just an elementary teacher.”

Hannah gives her hand a squeeze and leans back with a laugh. “Ah, humility: a universal characteristic of Seekers. If you ever fancy a career change, you’ve got a job waiting for you, anywhere in the world.”

Dani looks at Jamie, sees the awe haze over with an expectation of being left behind. Jamie looks down at her hands, still pink and peeling.

It’s true, Dani thinks. She does feel different. Something fundamental has shifted in her soul, the world around her, sharper. One thing above all else is clear when Jamie looks up again.

“I’m happy right where I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :D Stay tuned for The World's Longest Epilogue. I'm having too much fun to stop now.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 is coming February or March 2021. It was originally meant to be added chapters, but has morphed into a beefy sequel! See you then :)


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